


Someday

by fluorescentadolescent



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 16:50:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2780549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluorescentadolescent/pseuds/fluorescentadolescent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Bellamy and Clarke, it has always been friends, lovers or nothing...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I am actually about to do this. Ahhhhhh! Bear with me - pretty please - this is my very first fanfic and I have never felt SO out of my element, haha. I just cannot get this pair out of my mind. I would really appreciate the feedback, just so I can decide on whether or not to continue this! Hope you all enjoy!

Clarke was exhausted. She never thought her second year would be so hectic. In fact, people had always warned her that her first year would be the real shock and everything after that would almost come as a result of instinct. Ha! Yeah right. With work at the bar and her pre-med programs, Clarke was lucky to get 5 hours of sleep every night. It was taking a toll on her – she could see that everyday in the mirror – and Octavia made that fact clear to her every morning she opted for a bun instead of some moose. If it weren’t for her roommate and best friend Octavia, though, Clarke isn’t sure how she’d remain sane. Octavia had a way of helping Clarke let loose when she needed it most.

She’s known Octavia two years now, and she thanks her lucky stars that she got paired with her as a roommate that September of her very first year of college… even if her older brother did scare the crap out of her that day. Bellamy was intimidating, to say the least. He was tall, dark and handsome – the typical hot, bestfriends-older-brother package. Yet, he wasn’t anything close to being typical. His splatter of freckles always had a way of reminding Clarke of that. They gave him this aura of innocence, which Clarke knew he didn’t really have. Well, maybe sometimes. He had a way of being sweet - a gentleman - at the most arbitrary moments. No matter how many screaming fights he and Clarke got into over his over-protectiveness of Octavia or his arrogant, smart-ass attitude, he never stopped doing those little things so many guys forgot about – like holding the door open for her, or bringing her coffee after a Starbucks date with Octavia because he knew she’d be at her desk dying for one.

The thing was, Bellamy and Clarke had grown to understand each other over the past two years. And they’d grown into a sort of routine around each other – screaming or getting along. Throwing objects across the room at each other or crashing on the sofa beside each other to Netflix. Not many people understood their dynamic, either. Their group of friends always had a way of chalking it up to sexual tension, but Clarke knew better. Bellamy knew better – or atleast she hoped he did. She knew their relationship needed to stay platonic, no matter how many close calls they have had with each other. She knew it could never work, not that she’d ever thought about him in that way. Of course not. She knew all this, and yet…She could also see how similar they were. Octavia would scream it at her on the regular, but Clarke knew she wasn't talking a load of crap because she noticed it, too. She noticed, at first, how stubborn they both were. Hell, anyone would notice that. But she also noticed the way they could sit and talk for hours about Bellamy's nerdy Roman history obsession, or her artwork that she'd never have the guts to pursue. She noticed how they clicked - how they became comfortable around each other within the first two weeks of knowing one another. She noticed how passionate they both were.

Clarke mentally chastised herself, because, SHIT, she had brought up that can of worms again.

Now, Clarke was an independent, rational, levelheaded girl; she’s always been that way. She tries not to rely on her mother for cash, much rather preferring to work at the bar on campus, and ever since her father passed, she’d learnt to just keep a comfortable distance, never relying too heavily on anyone, let alone her family. That being said, Clarke has seen some shit. And through all the shit she’s encountered, through all the drama she’s faced – such as cheating ex boyfriends – Clarke has always remained the rational one. But the moment she met Bellamy that September morning, all that rational thought and cool exterior went flying out the window of her dorm room. She still remembers that day so vividly, and she really tries not to run over it in her mind, but sometimes she can’t help herself.

 

_“Mom! I am fine, I promise. Everything looks great so far and I haven’t even seen my room yet.”_

_“Clarke, honey, I just wish I could be there. If Mrs. Vandenburg hadn’t gone into an early labour…”_

_“Mom, let’s not get mad at the pregnant woman, and instead focus on how exciting this is. I can’t believe this is all happening…”_

_“Oh sweetie, I am so excited for you. Your father would have loved this.” Clarke tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat at that. It was moments like these where she would give anything to have her father helping her carry her boxes instead of the kid wearing goggles beside her. He was really a sweetheart. James? John? Jasper? She couldn’t remember his name for the life of her, but she smiled at him anyway. He was currently lugging around one of her brown boxes, labeled ‘Clothes’, while Clarke dragged her suitcase in one hand, and held her phone in the other. It was the third trip they’d made together up to the second floor, and Clarke could see the pile of boxes outside her room at the end of the hall._

_“Honey, have you seen your room yet?”_

_“Not yet, Mom. Just finishing with all my crap before the big moment.” Clarke wanted to make sure all her things were in order before unveiling her new living quarters for the next year._

_“Alright, well let me know! We should Skype later.” Doubtful, since her mom would probably be at the hospital all night._

_“Yeah, of course. Talk to you soon,” Clarke had said anyway._

_Clarke hung up her phone and turned to look at the adorable boy wearing goggles on his head once they’d reached her dorm. “Thank you so much, again, for helping me out. And here I was thinking chivalry was dead…”_

_“It’s no big thing – you looked like you were going to wipe out carrying all those boxes at once, anyway.”_

_Clarke smiled at him, trying to suppress her laughter at the fact that he did, indeed, look just as flustered now. “Here,” she said passing him her cell, “add your phone number so I can take you out for a beer sometime to thank you.”_

_Goggle boy’s eyes widened at that and Clarke hoped to God he didn’t take that the wrong way. She made a vow to herself that she would step out of her comfort zone and make friends in College. More than the three or four she had made in high school._

_“Yeah! Forsure! That’d be awesome! I could introduce you to some of my friends,” he said while typing in his information, and Clarke deflated, relieved. He passed her back her cell, and she looked down to see his name was, in fact, Jasper._

_“Thanks again, Jasper. I’ll see you soon, I guess.”_

_“Absolutely,” he said waving, as he turned to leave._

_Clarke was smiling to herself as she slid her dorm room key in. Before she turned the knob, she took a deep breath, hoping for a comfy mattress and sane roommate. Instead, what she got was an unbelievably attractive guy sitting on one of the single beds._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's flashback to her first day of college continues!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excited to continue this story - I've got some ideas brewin' ;)

_“Uh… Hi?” Clarke turned around to look at the number of the dorm again – yup, she was definitely in the right room. The brunette whipped his head up from his phone to look at her._

_“Yeah, don’t worry, you’re in the right dorm. I’m Bellamy Blake,” he said as if it were a blessing, “Octavia’s older brother.” He then proceeded to stand up and make his way over to her. He stuck out his hand and Clarke just stared at it so she wouldn’t stare at his face, but that was just making things more awkward. He had nice hands. And his skin tone was not even fair. She quickly recollected herself and shook his hand. Obviously not quick enough, though, if his smirk was any indication._

_“Clarke,” she said in the most even voice she could manage. What in the hell was wrong with her? She didn’t even know the guy and he was already making her skin prickle with nerves._

_Before he could open his mouth to respond a pretty brunette with perfectly arched eyebrows and long hair came bounding in. She was gorgeous, just like the boy – or man, rather – standing beside her, and Clarke assumed this was her roommate, Octavia._

_“You must be Clarke! I’m Octavia. It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she told Clarke animatedly, and then followed by enveloping Clarke in one of the tightest hugs ever._

_“It’s – nice – to meet you –too!” Clarke tried to speak through the crushing force of the hug. Octavia was a strong little thing._

_“Hey, O, how ‘bout you give your new roomie some space before you kill her,” Bellamy said with a look of disapproval. He clearly was not as trusting of strangers as his sister was._

_Octavia let go, smiling. “Oh shut up, Bell. You can leave now, by the way. I think I’m all set here,” she said looking around the dorm. “Isn’t it such a good space, Clarke?”_

_Clarke made her way through the rest of the room, trying to ignore the fact that Bellamy had been seated on her bed, seeing as Octavia’s was full of boxes. It really was a good amount of space – more than she expected to get, that’s forsure. She smiled to herself as a feeling of rightness settled within her. She realized then that she still hadn’t responded to Octavia, and when she spun around to face the two siblings, they were both studying her – Octavia with a content smile on her face and Bellamy with his eyes slightly squinted at her, like he was trying to figure something out._

_“It’s great! To be honest, I’m just glad you aren’t a bitch or anything, ‘cause that’s what I was most concerned about,” Clarke said honestly._

_Octavia burst out laughing at that, and Bellamy looked down at his boots, smirking to himself._   
_“Oh man, me too! I’m glad you’re not some girl with poor social skills. You seem like one of those types who can actually let her hair down,” Octavia said with a wink._

_At that, Bellamy whipped his head up, causing his curls to move over his eyes. He brushed his hair away with his hand and gave Octavia a threatening glare. Octavia responded with a roll of her eyes. Clarke couldn’t help but find the exchange adorable._

_“Give me a break, Bell! You will not ruin my first-year fun! I’m not an idiot,” she responded exasperatedly._

_“Bullshit! You’re always up to no good. And I’m going to watch you like a hawk, so get used to it,” then he looked Clarke straight in the eye and said, “and I hope you are a good influence, Clarke.” He said it as if he had known her all his life, expecting nothing but compliance. He was a cocky son of a bitch._

_“Ya know, I’m actually kind of a party animal, if we’re being honest here,” Clarke stated, the sarcasm palpable. She smirked at his glare._

_“Goodbye, Bellamy!” Octavia shooed him from the room._

_He left the room with a curt, “Behave,” and Octavia shut the door once he was in the hallway._

_“Sorry about that! Bell’s just being Bell. Our mother died when we were young. He basically raised me himself so he tends to get a little protective. You’ll get used to it,” Octavia said plopping down onto Clarke’s bed, as if she didn’t just reveal something very personal about her life._

_“Sorry to hear that. My dad passed away not too long ago, too.” Clarke looked the pretty brunette in the eyes, giving a somber, yet sincere, smile. It was kind of comforting knowing someone else who has been through the loss of a parent._

_“I’m sorry, too.” Octavia then threw her arm around Clarke’s shoulders, saying, “I think we are going to get along just fine, Clarke.”_

_Clarke agreed, smiling._

_Octavia then bounced off the bed, running towards one of the hundreds of boxes stacked on her bed. “Now, what is there to do around here? Any frat parties tonight?”_

_“I’m sure we’ll be able to find one,” Clarke said, mentally laughing at the small spitfire of a girl in front of her._

 

Clarke smiled at the memory. She almost missed it. Almost.

She walked the remainder of the way to her dorm suite that she shared with Octavia and Raven. Clarke loved the little home they had created. It was an apartment with three bedrooms, a living room space and small kitchen. They all shared a bathroom, which neither of the girls minded, seeing as they had to share a washroom with about fifteen other girls the year before. Their place was also a ten-minute walk from the campus bar Clarke and Raven worked at, which was an added bonus. She really couldn’t complain. The three girls were inseparable, which had definitely come as a surprise to Clarke. See, once she had found out that Raven was the other girl Finn was with, Clarke just assumed a friendship between the two girls was impossible, but as their first year went on, she decided she actually really enjoyed Raven’s company. And since Raven was in engineering with Jasper and Monty, she would obviously be seeing a lot of the girl. Clarke wasn’t going to dwell over the situation if Raven had clearly moved on. So, as the year went on they got closer and closer until both girls realized they cared for each other enough to put the Finn situation behind them. So much so, that they always ended up laughing over what a douche he was after a couple drinks.

As she approached the front door, she searched her purse, realizing she had forgotten her keys. Ugh, really? Someone better be home, Clarke thought, as she knocked. All she wanted to do was sleep. She was about to give up and relinquish to Jasper and Monty’s when someone yanked the door open.

“Princess!” Bellamy greeted her cheerily while he stood, leaning against the door, eating a bowl of her favorite cereal – Frosted Flakes.

Clarke eyed him wearily, saying, “Well someone is in a good mood.” She then pushed past him into her dorm and plopped onto their couch. Used to Bellamy’s random appearances, she asked, “Where is everyone?”

“Well someone is in a bad mood,” he said glaring at her. He made his way over to the couch, sitting next to her while he devoured his cereal. Or rather, Clarke’s cereal. “I think they went to that new bar downtown. Wasn’t feelin’ up for it.” He said the last part before she could ask why he didn’t go, and she just stared at him. He was really eating that cereal fast. He seemed to notice her staring after a while, or maybe he was waiting for a response, but he looked up at her quizzically nonetheless. “Yes, Princess?”

“Someone’s hungry,” she said smiling and pointing to the now almost empty-bowl.

He looked down at his bowl, a little puzzled at first. Then he was smirking at her. “Jeez, Princess, if you wanted to stare at my mouth all you had to do was –“ He was cut off by the pillow Clarke threw at his face. “I’m just kidding! Holy crap, go take a nap. You’re feisty when you get no sleep.”

Clarke snatched Bellamy’s bowl out of his hands and ate the remainder of his cereal. She then pressed play on the gladiator movie he had paused, and got more comfortable in her spot.

“Hey!” Bellamy said, “I was not finished. Tsk tsk, Princess. You shouldn’t steal food from us mere peasants.” But he settled in closer to Clarke smiling, brushing his arm with hers, turning his attention back to the movie, and Clarke tried really hard to do the same.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I do not want to make Clarke seem like a damsel in distress in this chapter, and I hope you guys don't get that vibe, because I know for damn sure she is the opposite of that. I know Clarke could have totally handled the situation in this chapter on her own because she is a badass, but I really wanted to experiment with Bellamy's protective side. Enjoy! And comments kind of give me life :)

“Clarrrrrrrrkeeeeey!” Octavia yelled from the kitchen. 

Clarke groaned. Just a couple more minutes. Wait, was she in her bed? She didn’t remember moving from the couch… In fact, she didn’t remember Bellamy leaving either. She was suddenly wide-awake. She sat up in her bed and looked around, wide-eyed. Clarke visibly deflated with relief. She had been so worried they had done that again… She shook her head as if to rid herself of the memory. Octavia came to lean against her doorframe. 

“You alive?” she asked with a smirk. 

Clarke gave her an unimpressed look, saying, “Yes, why wouldn’t I be?”

Octavia spun around and headed back to the kitchen smiling, saying, “Oh, no reason!”

“O!” Clarke bounced off the bed and ran after her. The smell of pancakes hit her, and her stomach growled. “Mmmm, that smells fantastic.”

“It’s a good thing I made some for you,” she said with a wink.

Clarke settled herself on one of the stools, lazily resting her arms on the counter where they would eat. “What time did you guys get home?” 

Octavia gave her the same smirk from before. “Around three in the morning. You and Bell should have come – the new bar was amazing. They have a DJ and everything,” she told Clarke excitedly. 

“There was no way I would have made it through the whole night. I would have passed out in a booth or something. I’m pretty sure I fell asleep on Bell, too.” Octavia gave her a look at that last part. Now Clarke was just confused. Had they done something wrong? She would have remembered if they had done anything… 

“Yeah, Raven and I came home and found you two all snuggled up on the couch…” Octavia said smirking at the pancakes. 

“Oh,” Clarke said. She could feel her face heating up, so she looked down at her hands. 

“Stop worrying. I swear that’s a normal occurrence with you two. We thought it was cute.” 

“LIKE SO CUTE,” Raven said like a thirteen year old, emerging from her bedroom. She grabbed three plates and came to sit beside Clarke. “Those pancakes look ravishing, O. Please place four on my plate so I may indulge.” 

Octavia laughed, placing pancakes on each of their plates. 

“It was even cuter when Bellamy noticed, got all flustered and totally carried you bridal-style to your bed,” Raven said smirking at Clarke. 

“Ha! Yeah, that was really a precious moment. I should have taken a picture…” Octavia said, looking genuinely upset that she hadn’t documented the act. 

Clarke rolled her eyes at the two girls. “He probably just felt rude leaving me on the couch. Eat your damn pancakes.” Clarke could feel how red her face was. It shouldn’t bother her this much. Why was it bothering her this much?

Octavia and Raven shared a knowing look, each stuffing a piece of pancake into their mouths smiling. 

Clarke did the same, but she wasn’t focused on how good her pancake tasted. Instead, she kept mulling over the fact that Bellamy felt completely comfortable carrying her to her bed like she was his. He usually just shoves her to wake her up when she falls asleep on him… Why had he been extra chivalrous? Clarke forced herself to think of something else. Like how she still had laundry to do before work, or else she’d be showing up in her pajamas. Yeah, that seemed like a much safer train of thought. 

\-------------------

The bar was packed – standard for a Saturday night. Her and Raven had a system down – one hour out on the floor, one hour behind the bar, always alternating throughout the night. Right now it was Clarke’s hour to be behind the bar, which she was thankful for, because Miller and Murphy were currently seated in a booth, which only meant one thing – it wouldn’t be long before Bellamy showed up. Every time she could, Raven would stop to chat with them before being called over for a refill. Miller was great – him and Clarke had art history together, and they were always cracking jokes. Murphy was, well, Murphy. He could be cool, though, when he felt in the mood. The two boys shared a dorm with Bellamy, which stressed Octavia out at the beginning of the year. Clarke smiled, remembering Octavia’s complaints of, “THEY ARE GOING TO MAKE BELL FAIL. ALL THEY DO IS SCREW AROUND WITH RANDOM CHICKS. BELL NEEDS TO GRADUATE. AND MURPHY? REALLY? MILLER I GET, BUT MURPHY?” The two siblings could be so oblivious to how protective they were of each other. The three boys were two years older than Clarke, but they were all in their second year. Bell because he took two years off after high school to work his ass off and save some money for school, and Miller because he had no clue what he wanted to study at first. Clarke wasn’t sure why Murphy had decided to take two years off, but she felt she wouldn’t want to know anyway. 

Clarke was pouring a beer for a cute guy she recognized from her biology class when Bell walked in. Clarke decided to strike up a conversation with the boy from her class just then – he seemed nice enough. 

“You’re in my Bio class right? With Anderson?” Clarke passed him his Alexander Keith’s. 

He smiled up at Clarke, saying, “Yeah! I knew you looked familiar.” 

“How do you like it?” she asked, trying to distract herself from the fact that she felt eyes on her from across the bar. 

“It’s not too bad – bio is probably my favorite out of chem and physics. I need the course for pre-med, though.” Clarke got distracted by that last part. 

“I’m in pre-med, too! I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, then. I’m Clarke,” she said sticking out her hand. 

He shook it, smiling up at her. “Heath. Nice to meet ya.” He had a slight southern accent that she found adorable. 

Just then Raven came bounding up to the bar counter. “You’re up girl! My hours finito on the Floor of Hell,” she said with a toothy grin. 

Clarke shot her an almost panicked look. How could her hour already be up? She cringed at the thought of having to face Bellamy after last night. She was hoping to avoid him for as long as possible, even though nothing really happened. The whole thing was just making Clarke uncomfortable. She was usually so good at handling these sorts of situations when it came to Bellamy – play it cool, act like nothing happened. That was her motto when it came to him. She knew he didn’t give a shit. Falling asleep on a couch beside a girl was no big deal for him. Why was she acting as if this hadn’t happened before? They’ve passed out on that couch together more times than she can remember… he’d just never carried her to her bed like that before. How embarrassing. Gathering up all the courage she could muster she stepped from behind the bar. Raven threw her small apron at her, and Clarke caught it. 

“Thanks, Reyes,” she muttered under her breath. 

“Love you, Clarkey,” she said with the most shit-eating grin on her face. 

Clarke groaned, and made her rounds. The whole time she felt eyes on her, but she refused to make eye contact until absolutely necessary. 

“Hey, Clarke!” Miller called at her eventually. 

She sighed before turning to their booth. “Hey,” she said with a forced smile. Her hands were slightly shaking so she clasped them together. 

“Too good for us now to say hi?” Miller fake pouted, which caused a real smile to spread across her face. 

“Sorry, just tired tonight is all.”

“I think you’re neglecting our table,” Murphy said with a sneer. 

“Well, can you really blame me? You’re here,” she shot back.

At that, Bell lightly chuckled. Miller made a sizzling noise and said, “Feisty.” 

Clarke finally looked up to meet Bellamy’s gaze. He was smiling at her. She held his gaze, feeling bare all of a sudden. Before things could get awkward, he said, “Can you get me a gin and tonic, Princess?” 

“Yeah, sure. You guys want anything else?” she asked looking at the two other boys who had become distracted with the basketball game that was on. 

“Hmm? What, no. I’m good, thanks Clarke,” Miller said. Murphy just shook his head, watching the game. 

“I’ll be right back with your gin.” As soon as she left the table she could breathe again. Bell wasn’t acting strange, though, so that was good. She needed to relax. Clarke was tempted to take a sip from his drink, just to help her out, but refrained from doing so. 

“Here ya go,” she said to Bellamy, passing him his drink. He was about to thank her, when some asshole smacked Clarke’s ass on his way to the bathroom. 

“Hey sweetheart. Nice ass.” He said before walking away. 

Clarke was in utter shock. All she could do was stare after him with her mouth hanging open. She felt the embarrassment on her face, and her hands began to shake from anger. She wanted to punch the lowlife in the face, but she was stuck in her spot. She spun her head around to stare back at her table of friends. The look on Bellamy’s face was one of pure wrath. His jaw and fists were clenched so hard it looked like he was going to burst. He shot up from his seat and grabbed the asshole by the collar of his stupid polo golf shirt before he could round the corner. 

“Apologize,” he growled, pushing him hard against the wall. The bar was almost silent except for the music playing from the radio. Clarke knew she had to interfere before he did something stupid like kill the guy, but all she could do was stare, dumfounded. 

“Hey man, I didn’t know she was with someone! I’m sorry man!” he spluttered. 

“I said apologize to her, you piece of shit, not me!” he screamed at him. That’s when Miller got up from the seat – it seems he had been glued to his spot from the shock, too. 

“Okay, okay!” that’s when he looked at Clarke and said, “I’m sorry, alright? I’m pretty drunk right now, I didn’t mean anything by it!” he pleaded with her. 

Clarke just stared back at him with a look of disgust.

“Hey, Blake, calm down man. That asshole isn’t worth it. We’re still on campus bro, think about it.” Miller was trying to calm him down, but it clearly wasn’t working. Bellamy still had him by the collar of his shirt. Then he looked at Clarke with such a heartbreaking expression – as if he was sorry. That’s when something clicked inside of her. She made her way over to him, slowly, as if he were a wounded animal. He looked so angry – she’s never seen him so angry before, except for that one time a guy grabbed Octavia at a club. 

“Bell, it’s okay. You can let go now,” she said, slowly prying his arms away. He tensed at her touch, but allowed her to move him away from the prick. As soon as the guy was loose, he slumped to the ground with relief. “Come on,” Clarke led him to the staffroom. 

She shut the door and turned around. He was looking at his shoes, all balled-fists and tense muscles. She made her way over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He automatically returned her embrace, holding her tight. She felt him bow his head a little to rest it in the crook of her neck. “Thank you,” she whispered, as not to startle him, and he instantly relaxed. He let out a deep breath and Clarke could feel it move the hairs on her neck. 

“Anytime, Princess.” And then, “I’m so sorry he did that to you, I swear to God –“ 

Clarke shut him up by laying her hand over his mouth. She stared into his confused eyes, and noticed how his brows furrowed. From here, she could see every freckle on his handsome face. “Bell, shut up. You don’t need to apologize for anything. Now, hold me.” She dropped her hand and saw a conflicted look in his eyes, but it was gone before she could be sure. He nodded, pulling her back in his embrace and Clarke never felt safer.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there is a tiny bit of progress in the ever-confusing Bellarke department. There will be much more soon, trust me! I'm just trying to establish characters and friendships first before delving into Bellarke completely. I also want it to seem genuine. Also, the sculpture I describe in this chapter was inspired by Paige Bradley's 'Expansion', which is lovely. I happened to stumble across it on tumblr, like so many things. Hope you enjoy this chapter & please comment letting me know what you think! I will try and update soon.

“Wait, so you didn’t even punch him in the face? Not even a blow to the crotch? Nothing?” Jasper asked, looking unimpressed.

“I told you, I was frozen solid. I couldn’t believe what had even happened…” Clarke responded, thinking back to the incident from a couple days ago.

Monty whistled. “Wow, very unlike you, Clarke. I’m honestly a little disappointed,” he teased. Clarke shoved him into a passing tree. 

“Well, I’m a little disappointed in myself. If I hadn’t been in such shock I totally could’ve kicked that guy’s ass. He looked like a wimp.” 

“Man, I wish I was there to see the look on Bellamy’s face,” Jasper said. Clarke stiffened and felt something flip in her stomach at that. 

“Yeah, he was pretty pissed,” Clarke responded, trying to sound nonchalant. 

“I bet! Nobody touches his Princess,” Jasper turned to her, winking. Monty snorted and Clarke shoved Jasper into a person that was passing by. 

Jasper quickly apologized to the girl he had shoved, shooting Clarke a look of disbelief. “You’re very aggressive today, Clarkey. Sexually frustrated?” he asked.

“I am honestly going to punch you in the face. Are you guys trying to tell me you wouldn’t have stood up for me if a guy smacked my ass?”

“Oh, no no no. We definitely would have done something, but not to that extent, per se,” Monty replied.

“Yeah, I mean you probably wouldn’t need our help anyway, but if so I probably would’ve just grabbed Ralph the security guard.” 

Clarke rolled her eyes. “It’s Ron, Jas.”

“Same difference!” 

It was then that they heard a, “Yo, Jas! Mon! We need one of you to fill in for Miller!” Bellamy came running up to the three of them looking thoroughly disheveled and sweaty. His curls were slightly damp across his forehead and he was only wearing a thin white tee, which generously showcased his arms. Clarke noticed the football in his hand, and looked behind him. A group of about ten guys were playing a game of football on the small field beside the quad. Bellamy and Miller included, the latter of which was currently making his way over to them. 

“Sorry man, I’ve got chem,” Monty told him. Bellamy looked hopefully towards Jasper. 

“Yeah, okay fine fine. I’ve got an hour to kill.” Jasper said, smiling slightly. Bellamy gave him a full-blown smile (which, if Clarke was being honest, would’ve made a nun swoon) and patted him roughly on the shoulder. 

“Sweet!” He then shifted his attention to Clarke, as if about to say something, but the arm Miller had swung around Clarke’s shoulders seemed to have distracted him. He eyed them warily. 

“Ready to go, partner?” Miller asked Clarke. 

“Yup! I have never in my life been more informed of Mycenaean art,” she said with little enthusiasm. 

“Ha! Come on, let’s kill this test, Princess Peach.” Clarke rolled her eyes at the new twist he had given to Bellamy’s nickname. She looked up then and noticed Bell was watching the two of them, an unreadable expression on his face. She also saw the way his eyes were glued to Miller’s arm draped across her shoulders. 

Before things could get awkward Monty chimed in, which Clarke was grateful for. “Goodluck on your test guys, ill see y’all babes later,” he said, winking and walking away. 

“See you, bae!” Jasper said blowing him a kiss. It made Clarke smile – she loved how silly they could be around one another. Bellamy grinned and grabbed Jasper into a headlock then, walking away, saying, “Let’s go play some football, bae.” Clarke and Miller shared a look and proceeded by bursting out laughing. 

“Smooch you later, babes,” Clarke waited until both Bellamy and Jasper turned around, wearing incredulous expressions, before winking, while Miller threw his head back, laughing. 

\-------------------------------

Clarke walked out of her lecture hall feeling good about her Art History test. She had finished early, so that was always a good sign. Miller was still working on his, but he seemed relaxed enough. That left Clarke with two and a half hours to kill. Hmmm, what could she do? She could just go back to her dorm and nap… But, surprisingly, Clarke wasn’t tired. She had actually gotten a good seven hours of sleep last night. That left her with the option of the café or the park beside the quad. She opted for the park – there was a beautiful new sculpture there that she’d been itching to sketch. Making her way over there, she shot a glance towards the field her friends had been playing on earlier. She couldn’t shake the look Bellamy had given Miller’s arm around her. It had been a completely friendly gesture; her and Miller were comfortable enough around each other to do such things. Bellamy knew they were friends. He knew they were _just ___friends. In fact, he must also know about the crush he had on Raven. So why had he looked so… annoyed? Frustrated? Uncomfortable? Dare she say… jealous?

She knew Bellamy cared about her – he had made that clear to Clarke many times. He had a habit of being protective of her, too. Not to the extent he was with Octavia, but also not as relaxed as he was with Raven. Clarke fell somewhere in between the two girls. Somewhere in between a sister and a mere friend. It made her stomach clench. 

Lately, she found her train of thought drifting continuously towards Bellamy, which was frustrating because, why now? Why was he suddenly getting under her skin more than usual? 

Clarke found a seat on one of the park benches, pulling out her sketchbook. She closed her eyes and inhaled the crisp spring air. It helped calm her ever-present nerves a little. What was wrong with her lately? Opening her eyes, she focused on the sculpture in front of her. It was breathtaking. She honestly had no idea how her school afforded it. The sculpture was of a woman in the meditating Lotus position. She had her arms raised slightly, and her hands were set in the mudra gesture she remembered from her yoga class. The woman had her chin raised slightly towards the sky, as if she was breathing in air – as if she was real. Her favorite part, though, were the cracks all through her torso and legs where a light shone. She had never seen anything like it. It looked like she was being held together, all broken pieces, by this light from within her. It looked like she was bursting at the seams, literally, from this light. Like her true self was trying to escape some sort of confinement. She looked like a goddess. She looked strong. Clarke envied the sculpture and the strength the artist had depicted so well. She only wished to create something so stunning one day. 

With a smile on her face, Clarke began to draw.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Such a love/hate relationship with these two...

“ _Clarke_ ,” he warned.

 Jasper and Octavia were in the hallway, with their ears pressed up against the closed door to her dorm, trying to listen in.

“Oh, crap! He used her real name. Shit’s about to go down,” Jasper whispered. Octavia shot him a concerned look. She really hadn’t meant to cause the fight.

 “Bellamy,” Clarke mocked back with a sneer.

 “What the fuck is your problem?”

 “My problem? MY PROBLEM?” she screeched. “You self-centered, arrogant, bastard!” Out in the hall, Octavia flinched at that.

 Clarke’s fists were balled so tight she thought she might break her fingers.

 “Wow, Princess, is that supposed to hurt my feelings? I know you can do better than that,” he encouraged. Bellamy was just as pent up – every muscle in his body tense, his eyes shining darkly at her. His face was flushed from anger, and Clarke noticed the way his hands stayed balled into fists. _Honestly, he looked pretty hot this way._ Clarke stuffed that thought far away into the back of her mind– like, far away. She needed to focus on the task at hand. And that was putting Bellamy in his place, because no else seemed to be doing it.

 “I am trying to help your ass out, can’t you fucking see that?”

 Bellamy rolled his eyes. “Please, Clarke, I don’t need your damn charity, alright?” He was staring so coldly at her. It almost scared her for a moment at how quickly he could put up his walls – how easily he could seem to remove himself from an emotional situation.

 Clarke just stared back. _Charity?_ How the fuck was helping him pay his car insurance charity? “I said you could pay me back, you dumbass! How the fuck is that charity?” He was too proud for his own good.

 “Okay, first of all, it’s none of your business. If you weren’t friends with my big-mouthed sister you would have no damn clue I even had insurance to pay. Second of all, stop making me out to be some fucking degenerate! I can pay my own bills. I do work, _Princess_.” He said Princess in his cold way – no traces of affection present. He’d only twist the nickname when they were at each other’s throats. She knew he was only using it now because of how perfectly fitting it was. He never let Clarke forget _just_ how privileged she was.

 “You are unbelievable.” Clarke crossed her arms, furious. Why couldn’t he understand that she wanted to help him because of how much she cared about him? Because he was her friend? _He was more than that, if Clarke was being honest with herself._ He always thought the worst in people.

 “I never asked for your help. Stay out of it, Clarke,” he shot at her.

 “He sounds terrifying,” Jasper whispered to Octavia, wide-eyed. Octavia was trying really hard to keep her emotions in check. It had slipped out that Bell was struggling financially this month. They both worked, but sometimes the lack of parents was so palpable it hurt. She mentally cursed her absentee father whom she never knew. Octavia didn’t think Clarke would actually offer to help Bell – _Jesus_ , didn't she know him at all? Clarke should have known this would set him off. He hated seeming incompetent. He couldn’t stand the thought that he wasn’t enough, both, for himself and Octavia.

 All Clarke could think was, _Oh god – we're back at square one._

“Bellamy, come on, just let me-” Clarke was cut off by Bellamy invading her personal space. Now she could really see just how upset he was – their noses were almost touching. His eyes were so intimidating, and Clarke had to mentally tell herself not to shrink. She met his gaze with just as much passion, upset he had interrupted her.

 “Stay. Out. Of. It.” He said it slowly, as if she were a small child. She couldn’t believe how cold he was being. Bellamy was gone; the man standing in front of her now was devoid of all emotion. He was a man on a mission – and that mission was to get Clarke off his back, no matter how much of his asshole self he had to bring to the surface.

 He always did this – every time someone showed him they cared he completely removed himself from the situation. He pushed and pushed until he was satisfied with the distance. He was pushing her away and it fucking hurt. Clarke wasn’t going to hide it, either, apparently. She could feel the stern look slip off her face at his expression. Before she could get a hold of herself, she felt her eyes begin to well up with tears. Finally, some pained emotion crossed his face at that, but he was gone, storming out of the dorm, before Clarke’s tear could fall onto her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, surprised at its presence.

 “Bell! Where the hell are you going? Bellamy!” Clarke could hear Octavia, but she sounded far away. She made her way into her room, locking it, before the Octavia Inquisition could begin. _Not right now_ , Clarke thought. She hid under the covers and waited for this shitty day to be over.

 --------------------------------------------

  
“Clarke… it’s been two weeks. This is getting ridiculous now.” Octavia said, almost timidly, and went to lie beside her on Clarke’s bed.

 Clarke ignored the comment, staring up at the galaxy of stars she had painted on her ceiling. She tried to focus on the hues of pink, purple, and blue instead of the throbbing pain in her chest at the mention of _him._

 Octavia turned her head to stare at Clarke staring up at her ceiling, unresponsive. “Clarkey, I’m actually starting to get a little worried here.”

 At that, Clarke finally turned to look back at her best friend. “Don’t worry, O. There’s nothing to worry about,” she reassured.

 Octavia didn’t buy it, though. “Bullshit. You guys have never gone this long without speaking. A couple days, maybe, but you always hash it out. Two weeks? Seriously?”

 Clarke just looked at her, a crease forming between her eyebrows. She didn’t know what Octavia wanted her to say. Clarke wasn’t on speaking terms with Bellamy because he had made it clear many times over the past two weeks that he wanted nothing to do with her. There wasn't much Clarke could do, and she wasn’t one to beg. She was a proud person… something they had in common.

 “He just needs some space, I guess…” But it sounded like crap, even to Clarke. They both knew something else was at play here. _Why was he so angry with her? He couldn’t even look her in the eye when she was studying with Miller. He had walked right past her and gone straight to his room, slamming the door. Not even a hello._ Clarke winced at the memory.

 Octavia rested her head back and joined Clarke in looking at the captivating ceiling. “My brother is such an idiot sometimes.”

 Clarke didn't know how to tell Octavia that maybe she understood why he had ignored her these past two weeks.  _It's what I do. I just push people to their breaking point until they can't handle me anymore. All I do is make things worse. I don't know how to really show anyone I care so I offer to pay for their car insurance instead, pissing them off in the process._

She buried that train of thought, though.

Instead, she nodded and said, "Yeah..." 


	6. Chapter 6

Clarke stared in horror at her anatomy quiz. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath. She had been missing out on more sleep than usual lately, but a 56%? _Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT._

_Okay, Clarke. Breathe. It’s just one test. Just one test. QUIZ. It’s just one quiz – not nearly as important as a test. Focus. You can make up for this. It’s not a big deal. This is your first bad mark this semester. Not the end of the world._

_SHIT._

Clarke made her way back to her dorm in a daze of panic and anxiety.

_Okay, Clarke. You better calm the fuck down before you give yourself another anxiety attack. Breathe. Breathe. BREATHE._

She walked through her living room as fast as she could without making it seem like she was running, avoiding Octavia and Raven’s pointed looks, and shut her door. Sliding to the floor, Clarke grabbed handfuls of her hair and focused on her breathing. _In. Out. In. Out._

It wasn’t working.

_Shit shit shit. CALM DOWN CLARKE._ If she had another anxiety attack she knew her friends would worry. They’d know something was wrong. _They’d know just how lonely she felt._

The tears were spilling down her face without pause, now. Clarke could bottle shit up really well. For a long time, too. But after a certain period of time, even her brick wall couldn’t take it all anymore. All it needed every now and then was one petty trigger, like an anatomy quiz or a jerk with dark curls, and it all came crumbling down.

She could feel her throat closing up now. _Fuck, no! Clarke, get a hold of yourself._ She was definitely hyperventilating now. She heard someone approaching her door, and wiped away at her tears frantically.

 “Clarke?” The concern in Octavia’s voice was clear.

 She tried to answer, she really did, but she couldn’t find her damn voice. She was too busy trying to breathe.

 “Clarke?” Octavia asked, a little louder this time. “Come on, open up.” Then, a little more quietly, “Rae, where the hell is that key?”

 “I’m lookin’, I’m lookin!” Raven’s voice sounded frantic, too, which was so strange coming from her.

_In. Out. In. Out._

Clarke crawled over to her bed and snatched the blanket her father had given her for Christmas that one year. She wrapped it around herself, through her tears, and curled into a fetal position on the floor.

Clarke rocked back and forth, trying to calm herself down.

Octavia and Raven were over her now. _How did they get in here?_

“Clarke! Oh my god,” Octavia yelped.

“I’m going to get her some water!” Raven said, just as worried.

“Okay, okay, Clarke. Clarke! Look at me! It’s going to be okay. I just need you to breathe because you’re not breathing properly, okay? Clarke!”

Clarke could barely even see the pretty brunette through the moisture covering her eyes. She was a blur. She was trying really hard to breathe, but it just wasn’t working. Her head was spinning, and all she tasted was the salt from her tears. _Oh god, it's happening again._ Her heart was pounding so hard; she swore Octavia could hear it.

 “Fuck!” Raven said once she came back, looking down at Clarke, carrying a glass of shaking water. “O, what the hell are we supposed to do? How is she supposed to drink this if she can’t even breathe properly?!”

 “I don’t know! She’s not listening to me!” Octavia looked around frantically, as if one of Clarke's paintbrushes or canvas’ would offer some solution.

 “Okay, call Bellamy! He was the only one who could calm her down last time!” Octavia finally said to Raven.

 Raven’s eyes widened a little at that. “She’s going to kill us after this,” she said running to get her phone.

 Octavia continued wiping Clarke’s never-ending stream of tears away.

 ---------------

Clarke doesn’t know how much time passes in her state. Five minutes? Twenty? An hour? But she would recognize those dark jeans and leather jacket anywhere. She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to calm down her erratic heart.

By the time Bellamy got there Clarke was a shaking mess on the floor. Her entire face was soaked from tears and the choking sound coming out of her made his heart ache.

Octavia spun her head around upon hearing his approach, tears in her eyes. “Bell, I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,” she said quickly.

His heart broke a little more at that. “Why are you apologizing?” he said, shoving his sister over so he could kneel in front of the blonde girl curled up like a child on the floor. He balled his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. _Emotional detachment, Blake_. He closed his eyes, focusing, before opening them again, grabbing Clarke underneath the arms to sit her up against her bed.

 “Clarke?” He gently grabbed her face with both of his hands. “Clarke, look at me.” His voice was stern, yet soft.

_Oh God, not again. Why did he always have to see her at her worst?_ Clarke met his gaze, which was blurry.

“That’s good, Princess. Now, just focus on my voice, okay? You’re going to be okay, I promise. I’m right here. Can you hear me? Clarke?”

She nodded, though it was a little difficult to do so through the firm grasp he had on her face. She noticed the soothing circle’s he was drawing on her neck with his thumbs, and slowly felt her muscles relax.

 “Okay, good. Good.” He nodded, brushing the hairs out of her face. “It’s gonna be okay. Just relax.” His gaze was unwavering, even when he held his hand out to Raven for the glass of water. Clarke was transfixed, and it seemed Octavia and Raven were, too, judging from their gawking.

Clarke’s breathing wasn’t as laboured anymore, but she was still crying uncontrollably.

Bellamy held the cup up to her mouth. “I’m going to need you to drink this for me, Princess.” With his other hand he wiped away the tears that were still escaping. “Clarke.”

She nodded, and welcomed the water he poured into her mouth. She laid her trembling hand over his to steady the cup, and closed her eyes, focusing on the cool change of temperature. The cold water instantly soothed her tense form. When she pushed the cup away, she managed to stop gasping.

Bellamy gave the glass back to Raven and moved to sit beside Clarke. He grabbed her head, placed it against his shoulder, cradling her upper body against his own. His strong arm wrapped firmly around her back, engulfing her with warmth. Her tears finally stopped, and Clarke could finally breathe properly again. She hiccupped into Bellamy’s neck, and then she felt him pull her legs over his own. She was practically sitting on top of him, but he didn’t seem to mind. He just continued rubbing her back with one hand, and her thigh with the other, all while murmuring soft words of comfort into her ear.

“It’s okay, Princess. I’ve got you.” Clarke’s eyelids fluttered at the soothing, deep timbre of his voice. She finally felt her exhaustion creep up on her, and knew she would fall asleep on him if she didn’t move.

 “Bell,” she whispered tiredly.

 “Shhh. Just sleep now, okay? I said I’ve got you.” He almost sounded frustrated saying that last part, annoyed with her hesitance.

Clarke noticed Octavia and Raven were nowhere to be seen. _Hm, weird. She hadn’t heard them leave._ She cuddled deeper into Bellamy’s chest, accepting his warmth and comfort. _I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if I fell asleep here._

He moved the hand that was resting on her thigh to tilt her head up. For one panicked second, Clarke thought he was about to kiss her. The look in his eyes… he looked so unguarded and vulnerable. It scared her a little bit, how fiercely he was looking at her. “Next time it gets to be too much, you fucking call me, okay?” He said to her softly.

She just nodded, unable to find her voice. _Yet again._ He kissed her forehead lightly, and Clarke felt the blood rush through her body. Her heart was pounding for a completely different reason now. She rested her head back into the crook of his neck, trying to hide the blush on her cheeks.

Clarke didn’t think she’d ever get used to the feeling of Bellamy’s arms around her. It always felt like an army, not just one man, protecting her.

It didn’t take her long to drift off into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feedback is much appreciated :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhh, the angst.   
> It is clearly my mission in life to take you guys on an emotional, Bellarke roller coaster.  
> All the lovely feedback made me post two chapters in one night, so YAY :)

The person approaching Clarke’s bed woke her up from her much-needed rest. She was a light sleeper, and the sigh that escaped the person’s lips was enough to rouse her.

 “Hmmmm,” Clarke moaned sleepily. She shifted and opened one eye slightly, the other one hiding behind her pillow, to see who had entered her room.

_Shit._

Clarke sat up, fixing her tank top that had shifted, basically showcasing her entire bra. She quickly composed her shocked expression at finding him here so soon after her anxiety attack. She figured he’d keep his usual distance after another one of their common close calls. He always pushed her away whenever he realized just how much he had worn his heart on his sleeve. She tied her hair into a quick bun, attempting to look a tad bit presentable, trying to distract herself from his unwavering gaze on her.

“How you feeling?” Bellamy asked her, leaning against her wall like he owned the place. He had his blank-face back on, devoid of any emotion she had evidently seen there before. His presence was taking up her entire bedroom.

“Much better,” she muttered, embarrassed. She was staring down at her entwined fingers, nervously twirling them around.

He sighed, and then made his way over, taking a seat on the edge of her bed. He shifted so he was facing her. Bellamy was staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face. He looked a little frustrated, if she was being honest with herself. He must be pissed that her anxiety attack had forced him to break his silent treatment. The past couple weeks between them had been bizarre. She felt so unsure around him, lately. This all felt weird to Clarke now, though, and she didn’t know how to fill the unwelcome awkward silence.

“Sorry it was you,” Clarke finally said, avoiding his gaze.

He finally looked confused at that. His eyebrows were drawing together, and that ever-prominent crease between his eyes was back in full-force. “What?” he asked, genuinely puzzled. 

“I said I’m sorry it had to be you that calmed me down… again. I know you would’ve preferred to be nowhere near me after our argument. So, yeah. Sorry to have bothered you with something so stupid.” When the silence got to be too long, Clarke finally met his gaze.

_Oh. He looks pissed._

His jaw was locked and his nostrils flared a little, like he was having some internal battle. He finally looked away, shaking his head a little, instead focusing on one of her paintings. She still felt like he was looking into her soul, though.

“Clarke,” he began, “for a pre-med student, you can be pretty stupid sometimes.” He was still looking at her painting.

“Excuse me?” she felt her blood boiling – a common side effect of Bellamy Blake. He turned his head back to stare at her, looking even more pissed off than before.

“You heard me,” he said.

“Well, forgive me for not thinking that you having to stop my panic attack was at the top of your list under things you wanted to do, after two weeks of avoiding me like the plague! Sorry, I must have forgotten how very reasonable you are when you are angry, Bellamy! I must have forgotten how sweet you have been acting before yesterday!”

Clarke knew she probably shouldn’t be yelling at him. He had been so caring with her yesterday, but he really had some nerve calling her stupid. She still didn’t understand any of his actions from yesterday, and maybe she was taking her frustrations out on him, but Clarke hated his mood swings. She hated how he felt he could act hot with her one day and then cold the next. She understood he was pissed at her over their argument from two weeks ago, and she understood that he cared about her still, in spite of that fight, but _what the fuck was a girl to do when he made her blood boil with anger one minute and desire the next?_

He got up to leave, saying, “I’m not going to do this with you again.” 

Clarke followed suit, jumping from her bed. “Why not? Are you scared you may hurt my feelings?” He stopped dead in his tracks at that, and slowly turned around to face her, probably at the frantic tone of her voice. Clarke continued, moving closer. “Scared you may be honest with yourself for once?” She shoved his chest, pushing him into the wall.

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about anymore, Clarke. Maybe you should get some more rest. You’re clearly losing it,” Bellamy shot back. He looked smug and angry at the same time, and he was going to make her back off, even if that meant hurting her.

Clarke knew she was nearing dangerous territory, but she needed answers. She was so tired of this roller coaster ride they were both on. She doesn’t know exactly when things had become _more_ between them. She doesn’t know when, exactly, they both acknowledged that there was something _else_ between them, but it had happened sometime recently. And it was driving her crazy. 

“Come on, Blake. Is that all you’ve got? I know you have the balls to call me crazy. Let me have it!” She shoved him again and he looked like he was going to break his jaw from how tightly it was locked. “I’m just so fucking crazy, right? Holy shit, I’m like bat shit crazy. The princess has finally lost _it,_ and you can’t believe how long it took her! You are absolutely loving it, though, right?” She went to shove him in the chest again, but he just grabbed her wrists and stopped her.

He was staring at her like she had grown a second head, and the grip on her wrists was going to leave a mark. She kept trying to escape his grasp but he just kept holding her close, trying to make sense of the girl in front of him.

“Clarke, stop fighting me. Aren’t you fucking tired of fighting?” All his bravado was gone now, and all that was left was concern. Her eyes began to well up with tears, and when his grip slackened she backed away as far as the room would allow.

“Just get out.” 

He crossed the room to her, grabbing her face in his hands. He held her there until she would meet his eyes. When she did, all that was left was a tired boy. She instantly deflated.

“Are we done fighting now? I don’t know what you want me to fucking say, okay? All I know is that you better not apologize ever again for having a panic attack, and I don’t feel burdened because I’m the one who can talk some damn sense into you when you get like that, okay? Clarke!” he shook her a little.

“Yeah, okay. I get it, Bellamy.” She still couldn’t meet his gaze. She was scared of what she’d see there.

“Our argument from two weeks ago doesn’t even matter anymore, okay? We both overreacted, and I was an idiot who ignored you. I’m sorry, alright?”

_Was he fucking apologizing?_ Now Clarke looked up at him. He looked so damn desperate to make her get it. She nodded.

He let go of her face then, bracing his arms on either side of her, and hung his head. All Clarke could see were his dark black curls, and she was glad for it because she had no idea what her face even looked like anymore. She has never felt so many different emotions at once in such a short period of time.

Bellamy finally moved away, his face blank.

_Should she apologize, too? She did shove him pretty hard…_

Bellamy held up a hand, as if reading her mind. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered. Her voice was hoarse from yelling at him earlier. She felt unsteady. 

He quickly hugged her, but before letting go he whispered, “I have class, but I’m glad you’re feeling better. Call me if anything, alright?” He made it seem as if they hadn’t just had a fight unlike any other one of their fights.

“Thanks, Bell,” she whispered back, unsure of what else to say. She just felt she needed to thank him.

“No problem, Princess.” The smirk was back.

She watched him leave, and then slid down onto her floor, feeling more confused than ever. _What the hell just happened?_

She couldn’t move. She just sat there, once again, with her words stuck in her throat.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't know how I feel about this one, which is why it took me so long to post it, so let me know what you guys think. It's definitely longer than my usual.  
> Things are going to really progress in the Bellarke department after this one, so I'm excited, but also nervous.  
> I am also starting school again (boo), so my updates may be a little slower, but I will make a real effort to make sure I at least update once a week.  
> Enjoy!

“Why the hell did you even take Greek? Latin I get, but Greek?” Clarke asked.

“Because, _Princess_ , I am a history major. And don’t you know that Greek is just as relevant as Latin? I am appalled at your ignorance right now,” Bellamy was disapprovingly shaking his head at her.

“Okay, cool your jets there, Socrates,” Clarke said rolling her eyes, flicking a piece of her muffin at him in the process. It landed in one of his curls, and when he looked up from under them, annoyed as ever, Clarke couldn’t help her burst of laughter. 

He picked the piece of muffin out of his hair. “Really? You wanna go down that road?” Bellamy was fighting a grin, and when Clarke went to grab another piece of her muffin to flick at him he grabbed it and took a huge bite out of it.

“Hey!” Clarke protested through her giggles. “I haven’t eaten all day – that muffin was saving me from losing consciousness!”

Bellamy continued to chew through her muffin delightedly. “Mmmm, this is delicious,” he moaned with exaggeration. When Bellamy looked up Clarke was pouting at him.

_Damn_. He found it adorable.

“Fine, you child. I’ll buy another one,” he said getting up. 

“You’re weak, Blake,” Clarke teased. Bellamy glared at her over his shoulder.

_Don’t I know it_ , he thought.

Bellamy approached the counter and slapped his hand down on it, suddenly energetic. “O, one muffin please,” he told his sister, who worked at the campus’ café. She jumped at his loud approach, turning with a scowl on her face.

“Bell, I will slap you across the face the next time you treat my counter that way,” she told him, putting a delicious blueberry muffin into a paper bag.

Bellamy rolled his eyes at his sister. “Dramatic,” he commented curtly, passing her a five dollar bill.

“Why must you study at my place of work?” she asked, handing him back his change.

“I dunno, ask Clarke,” he said making his way back to the cozy booth they had made their personal study area. It was completely normal for them to study together at Caffiends _._ It had actually become a sort of ritual for them whenever Bellamy’s roommates were being particularly obnoxious.

Bellamy smiled at the mask of concentration Clarke had on. She was reading some shit about carbon bond formation, which made him shudder internally. He knew she’d rather be sketching, but, _hey, that was a different case entirely_.

“Your muffin, Madam,” Bellamy said taking a seat, pulling Clarke out of her chemistry stupor.

“You’re kind of a gentleman, Bellamy Blake,” she told him, receiving the muffin with a smile on her face.

He scoffed at that. “Yeah, right, Griffin.”

He focused his attention back on the mess of Greek in front of him.  _Καταθέλγω. What the fuck does that mean, again? Fascinate?_ Bellamy flipped to the glossary at the back of his textbook. _Καταθέλγω – enamor or enrapture_. His brows creased at the definition. _Of-fucking-course that is what it means._ He quickly moved on to the next word. _Πριγκίπισσα. I think this one is hegemony. Come on, Blake._ He flipped back to the glossary. _Πριγκίπισσα – princess._ He audibly slammed his book shut.

When he finally looked up, Clarke was staring at him, eyebrow raised, muffin in one hand, highlighter in the other.

“I think I’ve had enough of the Greek for the day,” he said, crossing his arms across his chest. He noticed Clarke’s gaze flicker to his arms for a second, but she rested them back on his face before he could be sure she was doing what he thought she was doing.

Clarke noticed his abrupt mood swing. _And his muscular arms_. She shook her head slightly.

“Let’s go eat a real meal,” Bellamy decided, packing up his things, not waiting for Clarke’s reply.

“Chinese?” 

Bellamy smirked at her hopeful tone. “Sure, Princess.”

 

 ----------------------------------

  
“Please, Clarke!” Octavia whined. 

“O, I haven’t even looked at my Calculus homework yet.”

“Come on! You need a night out more than any of us. Please, Clarkey. We won’t stay too late - I promise.” Octavia put on her best Bambi eyes and stared Clarke right in the eye.

_I don’t give a shit – Clarke is coming to this party_ , Octavia thought.

“I’m sorry, O. I ca-” Clarke was cut off by Raven bounding into her bedroom and yanking her off of her chair.

“Rae! What the hell are you doing?” Clarke squealed, trying to untangle herself from Raven’s iron grip.

“I am going to show you the kick-ass outfit O has laid out for you to wear tonight,” she said, casual as ever. 

“ _Raven,_ ” Clarke warned.

Clarke would not feel guilty for staying home to finish her homework. _She would not._  

“Oh, shut up. There is no way in hell I am letting you stay home on a FRIDAY NIGHT to finish calculus homework.” Raven led Clarke the rest of the way into Octavia’s bedroom, where a gorgeous, but tiny, black dress was spread out on her bed.

“Guys, seriously-” Clarke began to retort.

“Not another word!” Raven almost yelled at Clarke. Her stance was all business, arms crossed, leaving no room for argument. Octavia let out a giggle behind Clarke and she tried really hard to keep an annoyed expression on her face.

Clarke groaned, rubbing her hands across her face. “ _Fine!_ But you’re helping me with my homework later.”

A huge smile broke across Raven’s face. “Absolutely,” she told Clarke, satisfied.

Octavia whooped and Clarke finally let out a laugh.

Her friends meant well.

 

\-----------------------------

  
An hour later, and Clarke was completely overdressed for a house party. She was wearing a form fitting black lace dress, which was perhaps a little too tight for her liking. Octavia had gone completely overboard on her makeup, opting for eye shadow and bold red lips. She wasn’t used to wearing so much makeup, but her best friends had assured her she looked great. Clarke had put her foot down, though, when O had suggested she wear heels. _Jesus, this was a house party._ Instead, Clarke had stuck to her black booties. 

Octavia looked stunning in a dark blue dress that brought out her eyes, and Raven had a way of making the simplest of grey skirts look jaw dropping. They would both be turning heads tonight.

“We look hot, if I do say so myself,” Octavia grinned at her two friends in their full-length mirror.

“Let us go and break some hearts,” Raven said exaggeratedly. 

Clarke giggled, the alcohol they had pre-consumed already getting to her. “Let us get wasted,” she concurred.

“There’s our Clarkey!” Octavia squealed.

 

\---------------------------------  


When Raven pounded on the door, music already thumping loudly behind it, Clarke suddenly had butterflies, anticipating just who would greet them.

It was Murphy who finally swung the door open. “Welcome to our cave, ladies. Please, do come in.” He motioned for them to enter with an elaborate swing of his arm.

“Move it, Murph.” Raven shoved him to the side, Octavia following quickly behind. Clarke shot him a sympathetic smile, but continued through the door, not wanting to get left behind to the room of hormonal and bitchy adolescents. 

“Raven. Always a pleasure,” Murphy said sarcastically, but he seemed unfazed, focusing his attention back on the blonde now glued to his side. 

Clarke couldn’t believe how many people they had stuffed into their dorm. People were dancing, all hot and sweaty, against each other in the center of the room, Miller being one of them. Clarke smiled.

_Typical_ , she thought.

She scanned the rest of the small space, finally landing on Bellamy mixing drinks at the kitchen island. _Of course._ Clarke smiled, thinking about how she would tease him about how he somehow always ended up the bartender at parties. Both knew she was a better mixer of drinks, but Bellamy never liked to admit defeat.

He looked gorgeous in his plaid shirt and khakis, the light hues of orange and red from his shirt bringing out his tanned skin. He had two buttons undone that showcased his chiseled collarbone.

He must of felt her gaze on him, because he finally made eye contact with her, but not before eyeing her up and down, shooting her a full-blown smile. “Princess! How do you make a ‘Sex on the Beach’ again?”

Octavia raised an eyebrow at her brother, “Is that innuendo, Bell?” 

“Thought you’d have that one memorized, Bell,” Clarke said before things could get awkward, making her way over.

“Ha! Good one, Griffin,” Raven said opening up a beer.

Bellamy smirked at her comment. “Naw, but I’ve got ‘Sex in a ca-‘”

“Let me stop you right there!” Clarke interrupted, making a face of disgust. His smirk was in full-force now. “You need cranberry juice, dork, not fruit punch.”

“Sass,” Bellamy commented under his breath, grabbing the cranberry juice from the fridge.

Clarke moved to get another plastic cup, placing it beside the one he was pouring vodka into. “Me too, please,” Clarke said, looking up at him with the sweetest smile she could muster.

Bellamy looked unimpressed, but made her the drink anyway. “Demanding little thing.”

“Oh, thank sweet baby Jesus you guys are finally here. I was about to jump out of Bellamy’s window. It’s like no one in here even knows how to communicate unless they are doing so between make out sessions,” Jasper said, deflating with relief.

Bellamy shot him a look of disapproval, as if the people in his dorm were not acting like sex-crazed savages. 

“Dude, you’re just complaining because none of them are making out with you,” Monty commented, casually eating a brownie. 

“ _Not_ the point, my friend!” Jasper nearly shouted.

Clarke couldn’t help her fit of giggles, and once she started her friends couldn’t seem to refrain from joining in, too.

“Clarkey, are you already drunk?” Jasper asked incredulously.

She felt Bellamy’s eyes on her, hesitating when passing her the drink he had made. She snatched it out of his hand, saying, “I am not drunk. I am simply buzzed.”

“Well, then, that’s no good. Let’s play a game!” Jasper shouted to the group of people that were in the kitchen.

“Spin the bottle!” Octavia suggested.

“Lame,” Raven responded.

“Never have I ever?” Monty suggested.

“Bo-ring!” Bellamy exclaimed. 

“Drink or Dare!” Jasper yelled, excited.

“Ou, I _love_ that game,” a girl named Roma, whose shirt scooped so low Clarke could see her lace bra, squealed. 

_Of course you do_ , Clarke thought bitterly. _No! Stop it. Roma has never done anything to you. Don’t be one of those girls, Clarke_ , she mentally scolded herself.

Finally agreeing on Drink or Dare, the group of about ten formed a circle around the island at the center of the kitchen. Clarke looked around – Octavia, Jasper, Monty, Raven, Miller, Finn, Murphy, Random Blonde Chick, Roma, and Bellamy.

Clarke was suddenly sweating, her heart hammering in her chest. _They wouldn’t make her do anything too horrible… right?_ Who the hell was she kidding? This was her group of friends – of course they would. 

“I’ll go first!” Roma said, all smiles and batting eyelashes.

_Of course you will_ , Clarke thought.

“Clarke, I dare you to kiss the boy you find the most attractive!”

Raven burst out laughing, and Jasper was trying to hide his huge grin behind his red cup.

“Typical,” Octavia noted, unimpressed at the predictability of the dare.

Clarke _refused_ to meet Bellamy’s gaze, all too sure of the amusement she’d find there. Instead, she took a large gulp of her drink. 

“Boo! You’re no fun,” Roma pouted. “Fine, it’s your turn to pick someone.”

Clarke looked around, smirking, trying to pick her victim wisely. “Miller.”

He grinned back at her. “Hit me, Clarke. I ain’t scared.”

“If you’ve ever had a crush on someone here, I dare you to kiss them.” She knew she shouldn’t have gone down this road – he would surely get her back, but Clarke wanted to have some fun. 

“You have just started a war, Griff.” To Clarke’s utter surprise, though, he turned to Raven and grabbed her face, planting a tender kiss on her lips.

Clarke’s jaw dropped. She didn’t think he’d actually kiss her.

Bellamy elbowed Clarke in the side. “You know he’s going to get you back, right?” He looked even more amused at Clarke’s concerned expression.

A couple rounds later and Clarke had licked Jasper’s face, chugged a beer, and kissed a sweaty stranger on the ear. Bellamy had kissed Monty, Miller had switched shirts with Roma, and Roma had, in turn, licked Miller’s stomach. Monty and Jasper had eaten enough brownies to worry Clarke, Octavia had performed a hilarious dance in front of everyone, and Raven, Murphy and Finn had teepeed the dean’s statue in the quad.

_Nothing too scary_ … _yet._

Clarke was finally having fun, forgetting about her initial anxiety. That is, until Jasper had made a new rule. Now, one could only pass up a dare no more than three times, and since Clarke had used all her passes up, the group basically had full advantage.

“Clarke,” Miller said, now that it was his turn. “I dare you to kiss the tallest guy here.” He shot her a wicked grin.

Everyone was damn well aware that Bellamy was the tallest guy here.

Clarke played dumb instead. “And who would that be, Nathan?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

“Hmm… Oh, look. Bellamy the Giant is right next to you. I think he will do.”

Clarke could always quit the game. They had been playing for a while now…

When she met Bellamy’s gaze, he seemed unfazed, but upon closer examination she could see the uncertainty behind his eyes. “It’s just a game, Princess. You don’t have to.”

He didn’t think she’d do it. And that made her angry for some reason. She felt everyone’s eyes on her as she debated. _This may ruin everything, Clarke._ And as much fun as she was having, and as much as she wouldn’t mind kissing Bellamy’s full lips, she knew she couldn’t risk it. 

_There is so much more at play here, Clarke. If you kiss him, you are playing right into their trap._ She looked around nervously. _They don’t get it. They don’t get that this is more than just a dare for you. For you and Bellamy._

Bellamy was looking at her, a little crease between his eyebrows, and as if he could hear her thoughts, he said, “Surely I’m not the tallest guy in the room.”

Miller looked startled by this new insight, while Clarke almost passed out from relief at his words.

“You guys suck,” Miller muttered under his breath. “Fine! Since I didn’t specify, go and kiss the tallest guy in the room.”

Clarke looked up at Bellamy, as if for permission, _which makes no sense because – really? She can kiss whomever the hell she wants,_ but he wasn’t looking at her anymore. He was staring at the drink in his cup, pensive. 

Clarke swallowed the lump in her throat, _you wanted this dumbass,_ and scanned the room. Her eyes landed on a tall boy with blonde hair, who was leaning against the wall, surprisingly not engaged in the dancing going on.

Mustering up all of her courage, and stuffing down the nagging feeling she felt, she made her way over to him. As she got closer, she finally got a better look at the boy’s face.

It was Heath from her biology class. The Heath she had chatted up at the bar. “Oh thank god,” Clarke muttered under her breath.

Upon seeing her arrival, he smiled at her. “Hey, Clarke. How are you?”

She was nervously wringing her hands in front of her, and she could feel the ten pairs of eyes on her back.

“Heath! Hi, I’m good!” she said a little too loudly. She decided to just cut to the chase. “Listen, do you mind if I kiss you? My friends over there dared me, and I can’t really back out of it at this point.” She saw his eyes follow her gesture to the back of the room. He looked back at her, kind of awestruck, as if he couldn’t believe her.

“Uhh… sure,” he said, sending an unsure glance to his now grinning group of friends.

“Thanks, I owe you one,” she said, feeling her face heat up from embarrassment.

“No worries,” he told her, sending her a warm smile. 

She moved forward, grabbing the side of his face with one hand. His warm smile was still there, and Clarke was thankful for it, because it calmed her down a bit to know he was cool with all this.

“Okay,” she said, more to calm herself down, still feeling all those gazes on her back.

“Go ahead,” Heath said comfortingly, and Clarke did. She planted a short, but sweet peck on his lips. She almost jumped for joy when she felt nothing at the contact. Just a friendly kiss, and Heath didn’t push her for more. She almost felt more relieved at that revelation.

“Thank you,” Clarke said to a nodding Heath. She went to walk away, but before she did she said, “See you in class!”

Heath waved back at her.

When Clarke walked back into the kitchen, though, the smile she had on slipped right off her face at the new awkward tension in the air. 

Octavia was giving her this weird, sad look. Raven and Jasper looked disappointed. Monty was still in love with the brownie in his hand, and Miller was looking between her and Bellamy in the most telling way possible. But Bellamy was definitely looking anywhere but at her. Instead, he was staring back at Roma, who was leeched on his arm, talking animatedly to him.  

Again, Clarke swallowed the lump in her throat, but it didn’t work. It stayed there, reminding her that maybe she should have just stayed home.

“Holy shit! It’s almost three in the morning.” Clarke appreciated Octavia’s feigned surprise and attempt to dispel the awkward tension.

“Seriously?” Clarke’s voice came out much quieter than she anticipated. Her head was kind of swimming, and she couldn’t get rid of the gnawing inside of her telling her she had just fucked up.

“Okay, friends. Sorry, but we’re outta here,” Raven said hopping off the counter, grabbing Clarke’s arm on the way out of the kitchen.

“Later, babes,” Jasper shouted after them.

But Raven wasn’t yanking Clarke out of the room fast enough. It’s like she anticipated what would happen next. Just as they were approaching the door, Clarke looked back and really wished she hadn’t, because when she did she saw Bellamy and Roma making out.

Roma was desperately clutching at his collar, pulling him out of the kitchen and leading them to his bedroom. She didn’t even need to look where she was going. _Clearly she’s done this before… But you knew that already, Clarke._ Bellamy was being led away from the party. Away from her. He was kissing Roma like his life depended on it, and all the breath left Clarke’s lungs.

_Shit. So that’s how it feels?_

Feeling her pause, Raven looked back at Clarke. “Fuck,” she muttered, and yanked her the rest of the way out.

“Ugh, can Roma be anymore desperate to get in my brother’s pants? Gross,” Octavia said, trailing behind the two girls, oblivious to the stern look Raven was shooting her.

“I’m surprised he’s even allowing it,” Raven muttered, looking really pissed off.

“I’m not,” Octavia said, looking much more sober now that she had seen Clarke’s face. That sad look was taking over her features again.

Clarke just shrugged, feeling numb all of a sudden. “It’s no big deal. He always ends up with Roma at the end of the night,” she said, trying her best to sound indifferent.

“Nah, he always ends up with Roma at the end of a lonely night,” Octavia corrected, swinging an arm around Clarke's waist.

The three girls walked back to their dorm that way, all tangled up around each other. It was nice, but all Clarke could mull over in her mind was, _how could that be considered a lonely night? He had been surrounded by people the whole time…_


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all :)  
> I don't think my previous chapter got updated to the feed, since I didn't see it there, but either way I wanted to let you guys know that I appreciate all the lovely comments & kudos so much. Hope you guys enjoy this one!

When Clarke walked into Nino’s, the first thing she noticed was how crowded the place was. She was thanking her lucky stars that her friends were saving a table because, frankly, Clarke was famished. She could probably eat a horse right this moment, given the opportunity.

The second thing she noticed, as she made her way to the table, was Roma sitting there alongside her friends… clinging from Bellamy’s arm and looking up at him as if he had hung the moon.

“Hey, guys,” Clarke said sliding into the booth beside Octavia.

Everyone greeted her with smiles. Everyone except Bellamy. You see, he was too busy looking at the menu in front of him, all determination and furrowed eyebrows.

Octavia turned to her once everyone’s conversations had resumed, giving her the most unimpressed look in her arsenal, and whispered, “Just as confused as you, Clarkey.”

She responded with a sad smile, and when she looked up she saw how Roma was basically licking Bellamy’s neck, completely disregarding the crowded table. Raven was giving Roma the dirtiest look imaginable at that, and Clarke had to bite her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing.

Roma seemed to finally back off a bit, though, after Bellamy whispered something in her ear. It was probably something along the lines of, “Babe, let’s save that for later.”

 

\-------------------------

“Hey, not here, okay?” he whispered to Roma. She simply pulled away, nodding, with a slight look of hurt in her eyes.

To say he was annoyed would be an understatement. She might as well have been glued to his fucking side. Bellamy was all for a little PDA, but not in front of his best friends. Not inside a packed Nino’s. Not with _Roma._

And he knew he was a dick for thinking that, because he was more than glad when he was with her in a sexual way. He never pushed her away whenever she was desperate to make him forget. It was just different this time. He felt it meant more than it probably should at the moment.

After their party, things had taken a bizarre turn. And he didn’t know if that was because Roma felt they were now an item, because she kept tagging along whenever he went out with his friends, or because Clarke had yet to have a normal conversation with him since said party.

To be fair, he wasn’t exactly being very welcoming of her presence. In all honesty, he was acting like a straight up asshole towards her. And if he could explain why, he would. But he simply couldn’t.

It was just every time he looked at her now, this weird feeling filled his stomach, and it resembled rejection too much for Bellamy not to take notice. And, well, he had always been best at defending… his family, his friends, Octavia, but especially himself. So he had been defending himself ever since, because he couldn’t stand the rejection, from Clarke of all people. He shouldn’t even be feeling rejection. She hadn’t rejected him.

_It sure did feel like she had, though._

Thus, their current predicament. They were back to their bickering and banter, but not the playful kind. The hurtful kind.

He also noticed the dirty looks Raven and Octavia kept shooting his way. _Jeez, if looks could kill._

Everyone else, though, seemed pretty preoccupied with his or her menus. Even Clarke. She seemed completely at ease with herself, asking Octavia which pizza she thought would taste better every now and then. Not that he was paying attention or anything. They were just loud.

 

\--------------------------------

 

Clarke was pissed. She felt nauseous. Unsteady. And she couldn’t pinpoint why.

_Okay. Maybe she could._

Her stomach kept doing these weird flips, and she had to grip her menu to stop her hands from shaking.

_What the hell are you so riled up about?_

She tried to focus on Octavia’s rapid suggestions of about twenty different pizza’s that all tasted “unbelievable”. She was now more confused then she had been initially, every different type of pizza staring her in the face.

“Okay, you are no help at all, O. Now I want everything on the menu,” she complained.

“I mean, we could probably do it. I’m pretty hungry,” Octavia said, humor in her tone.

“Oh dear, you guys would probably gain a good ten pounds,” Roma said, trying to join the conversation.

“Ha! Sure would,” Octavia said, forcing a smile her way.

 

\----------------------------  
  
Bellamy looked up when he heard Roma say something about gaining weight. _Was she talking to him? Shit, he hadn’t been listening._

He tensed when he saw that she was directing her comment towards Octavia and Clarke, and he prayed to every deity out there that she had not been commenting on either one of their bodies.

“Ha! Sure would,” Octavia told Roma with the fakest smile plastered on her face.

Bellamy shot his sister a look that said, “Really? Could you at least try to be civil?”

Octavia shot him one back that screamed, “Oh, this is me being nice, big brother.”

Clarke seemed to have witnessed the entire exchange because when he glanced her way she quickly looked away, fighting a smile.

_Oh, the princess thought this was amusing, did she?_

\----------------------------

 

Clarke was, once again, trying not to inappropriately burst out into a fit of giggles. But that was proving difficult because she could feel Bellamy’s death glare pointed directly at her.

She couldn’t help herself. Octavia was being so bluntly obvious in her disapproval of Roma, and the stern look Bellamy had shot back to her was absolutely hilarious.

“Something funny, Clarke?” he asked, impatient.

“Not reeeaaaally,” she said, dragging out the word. “Just something Jas said.”

“Who, me? Really?” Jasper looked up from his menu, confused.

“Mhmmm,” Clarke responded, biting her lip. If someone didn’t change the subject she was going to turn into a mess of giggles on the floor. She didn’t really mind though. This whole exchange was lightening her bad mood.

“Well, Clarkey, you know what they say. I _am_ hilarious,” he announced to the table with a smirk.

“Nobody says that,” Miller said curtly.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure no one has _ever_ said that,” Raven said through a laugh.

“Jokes on you, jerks! Because Clarke JUST said I was funny.”

“Actually, she said she heard you _say_ something funny,” Bellamy told him, and then turned his gaze back to Clarke. She tried not to flinch under it.

“Yeah, two completely different things, Jas,” Monty told him with a grin.

“Screw you guys,” Jasper said taking a sip from his soda.

Clarke was giggling now, Octavia quick to join her, while the rest of the table shook their heads in amusement. Except for Bellamy. He still looked pissed.

 

\------------------------------

 

_Fucking shit_ , Bellamy cursed himself.

When Clarke’s wide smile had finally surfaced, along with a fit of giggles, he looked away.

_Who the hell’s smile is that bright? It’s not normal._

Bellamy tried really hard not to give in and join the laughter, which was proving really difficult because he always had a weakness for her laugh. Well, for her, really.

_Stop that, Blake._

\---------------------------------  
  
After they had finally settled down and ordered the table went into a tense-filled silence.

_This is what I was worried about,_ Clarke thought.

She was currently twisting her hands in her lap, and apparently it was the most interesting thing in the world because she couldn’t look away.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Octavia texting Raven.

**_This is extremely awkward, and I’m about to ask for that pizza to go._ **

**_I’m about to stab myself with my fork._ **

**_LOL!_ **

_Shit._ And here Clarke was thinking the tension hadn’t been _that_ obvious.

 

\----------------------------

Bellamy signed in relief when the food finally arrived. Those had been the most awkward thirty minutes of his life.

“Ou, let me try yours, Bell,” Roma said, fluttering her eyelashes up at him.

His stomach sank when she called him that. He didn’t like it coming from her. Not one bit. He felt eyes on his face, though, so he quickly composed himself.

“Sure, just grab what you’d like,” he told her, suddenly not so hungry anymore. 

“Mmmm, this is delicious,” she moaned exaggeratedly, running her hand up his thigh while she was at it.

He tensed, his eyes widening a little, but he tried to remain neutral.

Raven coughed audibly, and when no one engaged in conversation, he simply focused on his slice of pizza. His phone vibrating interrupted his admiration of the beautiful slice.

It was from Miller.

**_What the fuck is up everyone’s asses? This is mad awkward._ **

**_I don’t fucking know._ **

**_Fix it, you shit. You’re being the most quiet._ **

**_Am not!_ **

**_-_-_ **

Bellamy quickly tucked his phone away. When he looked up everyone was preoccupied with his or her food. He smiled a little at that.

“So, who’s up for a movie after this?” he asked his friends.

Everyone hesitated, afraid it would be another awkward outing. He gave his sister a pleading look; he was trying to save the night, and Octavia could see that.

“Yeah, sure. I’m free,” she said, and pretty soon the entire table was excited to go.

When they all made to leave, he noticed Clarke falling behind at the back of their little group.

_Figures she’d make everyone wait. Princess._

She moved to talk to Octavia, but he could barely hear what they were saying.

“…weird… homework anyway…. next time,” was all he caught Clarke telling his sister.

Octavia was giving her this sad look so Bellamy turned back to Roma. Apparently she had been speaking to him the entire time.

“Sorry, what was that?” he asked, smirking slightly so she wouldn’t get mad.

“I _said_ , when we get back to your place I’m going to make sure you get over this bad mood,” she told him, a wicked grin on her face.

“Oh,” he replied, a little dumbstruck. “Right.”

And apparently that was an indicator for her to grab his hand.

_Christ._ He groaned internally.

When he looked back up, he met Clarke’s gaze, but she dropped it down to their clasped hands, and all of a sudden Roma’s hand around his felt like some clamp weighing down on him.

She had stopped mid-sentence, and a little crease was forming between her eyebrows.

_What the hell are you thinking, Clarke?_ He wondered.

She quickly composed herself, though, and turned to hug Octavia. When Clarke turned and started walking in the other direction, towards her dorm, Bellamy finally got it.

“She’s not coming?” he asked when Octavia approached.

“No,” she told him staring down at his hand holding Roma’s, a knowing look in her eyes. “Ready to go?”

Bellamy nodded, though he still felt sick to his stomach.

 

 

 

 

****


	10. Flashbacks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiii!  
> Guys, I am seriously so sorry about the late update. School got a little hectic there for a while. Anyways, I hope this chapter makes up for it. It's quite long, and did I mention that it is SOLELY Bellarke flashbacks? ;) I've been wanting to write this chapter for a while, and after those last two episodes (which shattered my heart - like Bell's face when Clarke tells him to leave??? what?!) I thought we could all use a little fluff!  
> Hope you guys enjoy & let me know what you think! <3

Clarke was wrapped up in her snuggie, much like a burrito, sitting in the warm comfort of her bed. She promised herself she wouldn’t wallow, but that had proven more difficult than she had initially thought. And it wasn’t that she was completely and utterly shattered, into a million irreparable pieces. She was just _so_ disappointed. In Finn, of course, but most importantly herself. She could usually catch onto ingenuous vibes sooner, but she had ignored the initial warning bells: the innocent puppy eyes, the ease with which he could sweet talk, the way he looked untouched, unscathed and far too pure at face value. He was too good to be true, both, then and now. She ignored all this, though, and decided to give Finn a chance. What a mistake that had been.

So, here she was, wallowing in her self-pity with a cheesy film because she had been too infatuated with the unwavering attention Finn had given her. Because she had been weak and vulnerable, and she allowed Finn to make her forget what a horrible place she had been in after her father’s death.

She knew damn well, back when Finn would flutter his lashes at her and caress her neck instead of her thighs, that no one could save her. She knew she needed to save herself, but it was almost as if she had wanted desperately to avoid that a little bit longer.

She really needed to get her shit together.

Clarke felt something land on her lap, and when she looked down a box of chocolates graced her with its presence. Looking up, she saw that Octavia was giving her a small sympathetic smile.

“Chocolate, because it will make you feel a little less like shit,” Octavia told her.

“Thanks, O.” Clarke dug in, instantly perking up when the delicious taste of Cadbury exploded on her tongue. Octavia grabbed a chocolate button before flopping down on her bed with a big sigh.

“You going out tonight?” Clarke asked her roommate, whom she had quickly become best friends with, despite having only known her a couple months now.

There was a loud knock on their door before Octavia could answer, and Clarke threw her a confused, and slightly panicked, look.

“Oh, relax. It’s just Bellamy,” she said making her way to the door.

Clarke instantly yelped, throwing an even more panicked look down at her appearance. She was wearing shorts and a camisole underneath the snuggie. “Octavia!” she screeched. Throwing the box of chocolates underneath the bed, Clarke straightened up right in time to see the smirk Octavia was shooting her.

“You look fine. Not at all like you’ve been crying, I swear.” Octavia teased, throwing open the door. “Hello, brother dearest!”

“Hi, troublemaker,” Bellamy said walking into their dorm, patting his sisters head on the way. “Clarke,” he greeted her, nodding curtly, a small smirk on his lips.

“Hey,” she said, trying really hard to sound nonchalant and focus on Shane West professing his love to Mandy Moore on the screen in front of her.

“Why are you wearing a blanket with sleeves?” His eyes were examining her up and down, and even though he couldn’t see the skimpy PJs she was wearing underneath, she felt bare all of a sudden.

She ripped her gaze away from Shane West turning, instead, to Bellamy. “It is a snuggie, you dipshit,” and his eyebrows shot up at the insult.

“Fiesty today, are we?” His smirk grew even wider.

“Bell, leave Clarke alone or else I’m kicking you out,” Octavia warned, opening up her Anthropology textbook. “You promised you’d study, so study.”

Raising his hands in mock surrender, he let out a chuckle. “Jeez, okay.”

“Why are you studying here anyway?” Clarke asked, curiosity getting the best of her.

“Loud roommates. Test tomorrow,” he explained, pulling The Aeneid out of his backpack. Clarke immediately noticed what a mess all the pages of the book were - inscriptions, underlines and jot notes filling up the pages. He must have felt her gaze, because he looked up at her from underneath his lashes, clearly amused at her staring.

Clarke whipped her head back to A Walk to Remember, trying to will her blush to fade.

_Oh no. This is the scene where he finds out she’s sick._ Clarke refused to cry, because of a cheesy romance movie no less, two feet away from Bellamy Blake.

_Oh, God. Now she’s yelling at him, telling him that she’s sick and he’s yelling back because she didn’t tell him sooner. Oh, here come the waterworks. You’re weak, Clarke. You’re weak._

Then‘I Dare You to Move’ by Switchfoot begins playing, and that seems to be Clarke’s undoing. She’s full out crying now. Peeking up from underneath her snuggie, she can see O and Bellamy completely enraptured by the scene, clearly not studying, which brings a small smile to Clarke’s face.

And then Bellamy looks up from the screen to Clarke, and before she can feel embarrassed, he sends her a small smile before focusing his attention back on the book that looks too small in his big hands.

 

\---------------------------------------

 

“I’VE BEEN ROAMING AROUND, ALWAYS LOOKING DOWN AT ALL I SEE,” Clarke bellowed at the top of her lungs.

“PAINTED FACES, FILL THE PLACES I CAN’T REACH,” Bellamy continued, just as loud.

“YOU KNOW THAT I COULD USE SOMEBODYYYY”, they sang together.

“SHUT THE HELL UP!” Octavia screamed from the backseat. “You guys are so annoying! I’m never getting in a car with you two ever again!”

Clarke burst into a fit of giggles, while Bellamy turned the volume up higher, a huge grin on his face.

 

\-------------------------------------------

 

She was sitting on a cold bench outside of the club Grounders when Bellamy found her.

“What are you doing out here all alone?” he asked, taking a seat beside her.

He sounded concerned, but she refused to meet his eyes and see it there. That would just confuse her.

“Jus’ needed some air,” Clarke slurred, shivering at the bitter cold. She was an idiot who decided it’d be a good idea to go out in just her dress, sans jacket or stockings, in the winter.

Bellamy must have noticed, _since apparently he notices everything_ , because he draped his leather jacket over her shoulders. Clarke welcomed the smell that engulfed her just as much as the warmth it offered. It smelled so entirely like Bellamy; musky and minty, with a hint of cologne that no other man seemed to own.

“You okay, Princess? You look a little… unsteady,” he said instead of drunk, as if not to offend her.

“Fine. Thanks for the coat,” she replied, staring down at her black wedges she so desperately wanted to rip off her feet.

He didn’t push her further, though, _of course he didn’t,_ and he relaxed on the bench beside her, draping his arms behind it.

“Bell, why do guys do it?” she asked after a stretch of silence, clearly way too drunk to care.

“Do what, Princess?”

“Cheat. I mean, if you’re unhappy jus leave, ya know? Why do they havta drag you along?” Her head felt really heavy, and it took all her strength to try and keep it up now.

“Clarke…” he sounded worried, but there was no pity in his voice, which she was grateful for.

When she finally met his gaze, he was a little blurry, but still handsome as ever. All the alcohol in the world couldn’t hide that fact. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his brown gaze was intense.

“Nevermind. Sorry. I don’t really have a filter right now. Just ignore me,” she told him, turning her gaze back to the street.

“Clarke, stop. You can talk to me.” He heaved a deep sigh. “Look, I know it’s probably hard for you to grasp right now, but it has nothing to do with you.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, puzzled, and looked back up at him.

_What? Didn’t it have everything to do with her? She clearly hadn’t been enough for Finn…_

“That asshole cheated on you and Raven because of his own insecurities. He was being a selfish coward, and you deserve better than that.” His gaze was loaded and he sounded so sincere that Clarke almost believed him.

Clarke just nodded because she didn’t know how to reply to a caring Bellamy just yet. She was only just getting used to this other side of him that came out when she seemed to need it most.

“Try not to think about it, alright? He’s not worth it.” The glow from the streetlight was illuminating his face so that his angular features looked even sharper. He looked gorgeous like this – unguarded and honest. She tried not to count the freckles on his face.

“Easier said than done,” she said, giving him a sad smile.

“I know… but you’re strong. You’ll get past it.” Abruptly, he got up from the bench before she could respond. _Typical Bellamy. Cut the convo short before things get too emotional._

“Come on, I’ll walk you home,” he said with a tilt to his head, indicating the direction of the university campus.

Clarke shook his abrupt mood swing off, saying, “Uhh… I don’t have my key. O still has it.”

He sighed. “Alright, I’ll go get it. Don’t move.”

As soon as Bellamy had gone back inside the club in search of Octavia, Clarke went to lie down on the bench. She had the horrible kind of spins now, and she needed to lie down or else she’d be sick. She groaned, resting her arm over her eyes, trying to block any light out so she could sleep.

_Just a little nap. Just until Bell gets back._

“Clarke? What the hell – oh no. No, no, no. Get up. Come on, Princess.” He moved to help her sit up, but seeing that Clarke was deadweight at this point, he gave up and sat down, resting her upper body on his own. Clarke’s head lolled to the side, falling onto Bellamy’s shoulder. Somehow his arm had managed to wrap around her waist, the only thing propping her up.

“Seriously? You are being _such_ a princess right now.” Clarke groaned in response, ready to pass out, causing Bellamy to curse under his breath. “How the hell am I supposed to carry you in that dress? If you can even call that a dress…” he quietly muttered the last part, making Clarke smile tiredly. Instead of mustering up any leftover strength to get up, Clarke cuddled deeper into Bellamy’s chest, lifting her legs to rest over his own.

“Sure, sure. Just use me as your personal sofa, no problem,” he said annoyed, but he placed his hand over her knee, probably completely oblivious to the fact that he was doing so. He groaned again and Clarke giggled.

“Glad you find this amusing, Princess,” but he got up, carrying Clarke with him, and _oh, now she knew what he meant._

“Bellamy! Put me down! My entire ass is probably showing right now!” but when Clarke went to lift her head to check, her entire world started spinning.

“Oh god, stop walking so fast.”

Bellamy’s booming laughter filled her ears. “I’m not even moving yet, Clarke. Don’t worry about your ass, though. The dress is longer than I thought.”

When Clarke glared at him, her face red, he just responded with a smirk.

A short cab ride later, and Bellamy was kneeling down in front of her so he could carry Clarke on his back instead. “Hop on, Griffin.”

Slowly, and unsteadily, she made her way up onto his back. The firm grip he had on her thighs wasn’t making the spinning and lightheadedness any better. Clarke squeezed her eyes shut and focused on the smell of his t-shirt.

“You’re so lucky I only live on the second floor,” he told her, amused.

“Wait! I thought we were at my place?” Panic immediately filled her. _Why the hell were they at Bellamy’s dorm?_

“Nope. Couldn’t find Octavia inside the club, and I wasn’t about to hunt her down with you intoxicated like that. All by yourself, I should add.” He must have felt her tense up because he added, “Stop worrying, Clarke.”

After a surprisingly short and steady piggyback ride, Bellamy finally set her down on his bed. Immediately, he went to grab her a pair of sweats and a baggy t-shirt, while Clarke excitedly yanked off her wedges.

“Oh _man_. That feels great,” she said all blissed out, massaging her foot a little.

“You girls and your heels…” He flung the clothes at her, and added, “Not that I’m complaining.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, cursing when it made the room spin even more.

“I’ll let you change,” Bellamy said, slipping into the bathroom.

Clarke pulled her dress over her head, keeping her bra on for dignity’s sake, and quickly dressed into Bellamy’s clothes. She cursed internally when she got a whiff of them. _You’re so screwed._

Bellamy walked in just as she was getting comfortable under the covers, in sweatpants and a white tank top. She assumed he had worn the tank for her, since he never seemed to have a shirt on at home. He also had a glass of water, which he set on the table next to her.

“You better not hog all the covers,” he said, a smirk on his lips. “You need a bucket or anything? You feel sick?” Those last two questions came out serious, making Clarke feel all warm inside. _Must be the alcohol._

She really should feel embarrassed. _He just offered to bring you a bucket so you won’t puke on his sheets._

“Naw, m’good,” she mumbled, growing into his warm, cozy bed.

When he finally turned off the light and moved under the covers beside her, he let out a deep sigh.

Clarke couldn’t believe how calm she felt. It was definitely the alcohol sedating her nerves because, otherwise, she’d be a wreck right now.

_You’re about to fall asleep in Bellamy Blake’s bed, with Bellamy Blake right fucking beside you._

She turned her back to him, afraid she’d wake up spooning him, and said, “Thanks, Bell. Night.”

“Goodnight, Princess,” he said, the deep timbre of his voice surrounding her like a blanket in the dark.

 

\------

 

Clarke woke feeling a weight on her waist. Turning around, ignoring the throbbing pain coming from her head, she realized the weight was Bellamy’s arm. Around her. He was spooning her. Bellamy Blake was spooning her with his arm protectively wrapped around her.

Trying to squirm out of his tight embrace, Clarke mentally cursed herself for doing this with him. _A couple drinks and you let yourself do this... Really, Griffin?_

Clarke froze when she felt Bellamy stir behind her. _Shit, shit, shit._ Soon after, she felt him tense up, probably realizing the compromising position he was in.

Chancing a peek over her shoulder, Clarke saw that Bellamy was very much awake. _Fuck._ He was glaring at his arm around her, a crease between his eyebrows. When he looked up, meeting her gaze, he immediately removed his arm, as if she had burned him.

“My bad,” he muttered. “Must have moved in my sleep or something.”

“It’s okay,” she said quietly, _because it was. She didn’t mind him holding her._ She wanted to reach over and smooth out the crease between his eyes. Instead, she got up to leave.

“I should get going… I have a shift later on,” she said, grabbing her wedges.

“Uh, yeah. Y-yeah. I’ll see you later, I guess,” he said brusquely, detachedly. When Clarke looked up, Bellamy was pensively staring at the floor. Anywhere but at her.

“Hey, Bellamy?” she said, leaning against his doorframe. His eyes shot up to her own, a guarded expression on his face. “Thanks, again, for taking care of me last night.” She shot him a small smile to try and dispel the awkward tension in the air, but his shoulders stayed tense.

He nodded curtly at her, his way of saying “no problem”, and Clarke turned to leave, unable to ignore the wave of disappointment. Instead of assuring him she didn’t mind his unusual act of affection, she held her breath until she was out in the hall and let the disappointment bury her.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

“Bellamy, give me back my phone, you asshole!” Clarke was reaching up, trying to extend herself to Bellamy’s giant height, to no avail. 

“Ouuu. What do we have here?” Bellamy asked excitedly, holding her phone above his head. “Finn messaging you?” Her eyes widened when she saw him begin to scroll up. “Holy shit,” he said, his own eyes widening.

“BELLAMY!” She was screeching at this point.

A shit-eating grin was taking over his entire face now. “Naughty Princess, huh? Is this what I think it is? Should I keep scrolling up?”

She was absolutely horrified. “BELLAMY BLAKE! Give me my fucking phone back before I castrate you!”

“Wow, Princess. Really? Why are you so obsessed with my bod- AW SHIT, OW. Fuck, Clarke. Jesus, take a joke!” he was rubbing the spot on his stomach that she had punched. She took the opportunity to tackle him to the ground.

Her tight tank top seemed to come in handy today, because he was clearly distracted by the fact that her chest was in his face. Taking advantage of his ‘guy’ moment, Clarke reached up and snatched her phone out of his hand.

“Ha!” She jumped up and ran back towards the couch triumphantly.

“Yeah, whatever, Princess,” he said getting up from the floor to take a seat beside her on the couch. Clarke would have felt more victorious if it weren’t for the full-blown smirk on his face. _Fucking shit. How much did he see?_

Acting on instinct, she punched him as hard as she could in the arm.

“Hey! What the hell was that for?” he was looking at her, all innocent and incredulous, as if he hadn’t just seen the sexy selfie she had let Finn talk her into sending him before she dumped his ass.

“ _That_ was for completely invading my privacy, you fucking asshole!” When he burst into a loud laugh, Clarke punched him again.

“Okay, okay,” he said through breaths. “I’m sorry. But, come on! Can you blame me? I had no idea I would come across that. Especially on _your_ phone.” When she narrowed her eyes at him, he quickly amended. “Not that you can’t be – ya know… You’re not a… prude! Y-you’re confident and gorg-”

Clarke burst out into a laugh at his discomfort, interrupting his attempt to compliment her. He glared at her, but soon the smirk took over his face again.

“Don’t know why you’re so worried, anyway. Looked pretty good to me.”

She blushed and looked away. “Yeah, whatever. Next time I’m chopping off your balls.”

“Next time?” When Clarke whipped her head up, wide-eyed and horrified at her insinuation, he was wiggling his eyebrows at her, and she couldn’t stop the laugh from escaping her.

He joined her, the deep sound of his chuckle vibrating against her spine. Throwing his arm around her shoulder, he crushed her into a bear hug. This was Bellamy’s way of saying, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to see more of you without your permission.”

“Okay, I forgive you!” she said through her giggles. Bellamy pulled away, but kept one arm around her shoulders, keeping her upper body close to his chest.

“Of course you do,” he said smiling. “You always forgive me.”

“Yeah,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Must be that Blake charm.” Her sarcasm didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Oh, please. You love me,” he said as he crushed her closer to his chest.

“And you’re clearly obsessed with me! Bellamy, I can’t breathe!” Clarke was trying really hard not to break out into a smile.

“Dramatic,” he admonished getting up from the couch to walk to the kitchen. She instantly missed his strong arm around her. _Really, Clarke? He’s, like, three feet away from you._

When he came back, he threw a pack of Peanut M&M’s onto her lap, a bag of chips on his own.

“You know me well, Blake.” Clarke said, excitedly ripping open the bag.

“Duh. It’s that Blake charm,” he said, popping a chip into his mouth with a grin.

Clarke playfully shoved his arm in response, and the smile that he shot her nearly caused her to choke on her M&M. She’d never tell him that, though.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we are nearing the end of our journey, folks! Maybe a couple more chapters? Not too sure yet. Who knows, inspiration may strike me and I may write fifteen more chapters for this story. I will definitely be starting up another fic soon, though, so look out for that!  
> Beware - feels up ahead, hahah. I hope you guys like this one - I really enjoyed writing it.  
> Mad love for you guys who have stuck with this story, btw <3

The thing about Clarke was, she could do anything she wanted. People bent over backwards for her and she had no idea. With just one blue-eyed look she could make you run across the globe for her because somehow you knew if you didn’t you’d be making a huge mistake. You knew you’d be letting down this person who would love you unconditionally, regardless. She’d give you her disappointed look, and you’d be done for. The thing was, though, she’d never _ask_ anybody for anything. She’d just look at you, and you’d know to get off your ass and help this girl who had a heart too big for this world. She had this thing about her that made you never want to stop knowing her. She was an enigma, and she had no idea.

And all that scared the shit out of Bellamy because he knew he’d do anything for this girl who finally made him feel like he mattered.

 

\------------------------------

 

“O?” Bellamy called into his sister’s dorm room. “You home?” He made his way into the living room, noticing the soft sound of music coming from the room to the left. _Clarke._

He quickly went to check if O was in her room, cursing himself for calling out her name before checking her room. _Let’s just hope she didn’t hear you, Blake._ With a scowl on his face, he peeked into Octavia’s room to find it empty.

“You just missed her,” came a voice from behind him.

When he spun around, he saw Clarke making her way into the small kitchen, all giant headphones over her head, short shorts and a baggy tee. Bellamy swallowed nervously, wishing she’d put some sweatpants on or something.

“Oh,” was his dumb reply. Clarke stopped pouring cereal to look up from under her eyelashes at him at that.

“Yeah… work, remember?” Clarke turned to grab milk from the fridge, giving Bellamy a glorious view of her backside. “Want some?” she asked, pulling him out of his fantasy.

If he said no, he’d just be giving her the satisfaction that he was too much of a pussy to face her. If he said yes, well, he’d be in trouble. He always was with Clarke.

“Sure, I could eat,” he said, trying to sound casual. He coughed awkwardly, taking a seat on one of the stools they had alongside the counter.

“Frosted Flakes or Reese’s Puffs?”

He tried not to think about why they had Reese’s Puffs, his favorite, if all three of the girls hated it. He shot her a look that said, “Do you seriously have to ask?” 

She huffed and poured the Reese’s Puffs into his bowl. She placed the milk beside him, though, because _of course_ she knew how picky he was with his milk. Too much, and it got soggy, but too little and it got dry. He had an issue, and she’d always tease him over it.

But not today. He swallowed the lump in his throat and poured the damn milk. He should’ve slipped out when he had the chance.

She came to sit on the stool beside him, as if not to make it awkward. He had noticed her hesitation on whether or not she should leave a seat between them. Throwing her yellow Urbanears to the side, _always so polite_ , she quietly ate her cereal. Bellamy decided to stop staring at her and do the same.

He kind of wanted to smash his head into the counter below him at the awkward tension, but that would probably give him away.

“So, you and Roma, huh?” She had angled her body to face him, crossing her long legs, making him squirm a bit.

_Fuck, Clarke, really?_

He did not want to talk about this. He didn’t think she would have jumped right into it.

 

\--------------------------

  
Bellamy tensed right when she asked him the question, but Clarke was determined to make things normal between them again. Why couldn’t she ask about Roma? It’s not like she hadn’t ever done it before. He would always get a little uncomfortable when discussing his love life, or lack thereof, with her, but not to this extent.

He turned to look at her, abandoning his cereal, with a strange look on his face. Like he was trying to figure out what her motive was.

“Not really,” was his vague reply.

“What does that mean?” 

“Can we drop it?” he snapped, turning back to his cereal and avoiding her gaze.

Clarke tried not to feel relief at his “not really”. That meant it wasn’t serious. _Right?_

“What’s up with you? You’re being a huge jackass as of late,” Clarke told him, annoyed.

“I’m just sick and fucking tired of people asking me about Roma, alright?” He had a stern look on his face, warning her to drop it.

“Well, then maybe you should do something about it.” When he gave her a confused look she elaborated, saying, “Ya know, like make it official or something? You can’t just string her along forever.” _Why the hell are you encouraging their relationship, you idiot?_  

“Pretty sure Roma knew what she was getting into when we started hooking up,” he responded tersely.

It still stung to hear him say it out loud, but she guessed he had a point. Roma did know better than to expect romance or commitment from Bellamy… so why was she all clingy, lately? Maybe even _Roma_ had a limit.

Turning back to her cereal, Clarke decided to drop the subject. She could tell Bellamy would snap otherwise.

 

\-----------------------------------

 

He fucking hated when she would ask him about Roma. She’d ask all these questions that reminded him what a douchebag he was. Worst of all, she’d look at him with a hint of disappointment, as if he could do so much better. As if he were capable of commitment and relationships and romance and more than just meaningless sex, which was fucking ridiculous. He’d fuck it up, like he fucked up everything else, because he wasn’t capable of letting anyone except Octavia all the way into his heart.

He was going to fire back and ask her about that blonde kid she had chose to kiss over him, the one she was always leaving biology class with, but he decided against it. It didn’t matter, anyway.

So he sat in silence, two inches away from her, and ate his damn fucking Reese’s Puffs.

 

\-------------------------------------

 

The silence was deafening and Clarke wished that she had started up the conversation in a different way. _Why do you always have to dive into the heavy shit first, Griffin?_

\-------------------------------------

 

When Bellamy finished his cereal, he got up to rinse it and then popped it in the dishwasher. Seeing that Clarke had finished, too, he moved to rinse her bowl as well.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said quietly.

“It’s fine,” he muttered.

“Thanks,” she replied, but she sounded sad.

He did his best to ignore that and focus on the sound of running water.

 

\--------------------------------------

 

It was as if the silence had sobered her up. She realized _just_ how awkward things were between them, and she didn’t know how to fix it. But she did know that as long as he drowned himself in Roma, things would remain this way. It’s how it always was between them. Whenever he ran back to her, because he loved making the same mistakes, he kept her at an arms length. He was self-destructive, and he had no idea. 

Noticing he had finished the dishes, and that he was now making his way over to his leather coat, she spoke up. “Bell… do you wanna stay for a movie or something?” She hated how hopeful she sounded. How pathetic she sounded.

He seemed to stop and consider it. He looked conflicted; like he wanted to say yes, but something was holding him back. His brows were scrunched up, and his mouth was turned down into a frown.

“You sure you want to watch a movie with _me_?”

“What?” _What the hell is that supposed to mean?_ “Why wouldn’t I want to? I always do.” She was honestly perplexed.

“I’m just saying, Clarke. You don’t have to feel bad or obligated. I’ll be fine. You don’t always have to be so polite, you know?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” She was getting annoyed now. “I was just wondering if you wanted to watch a fucking movie. Are you on your period or something?”

He glared at her before responding. “I’m talking about the fact that those were some of the most awkward thirty minutes of my life. We don’t need to prolong this, if you were worried about being inhospitable or something by letting me leave so soon.”

_Ouch._ She swallowed the lump that was slowly forming in her throat. _It hadn’t been that bad._ She shook her head, frustrated with his hostility.

“Where is this even coming from? Why are you being such a dick?”

He laughed bitterly at her. “Oh man, trust me, Clarke, I’m not trying to be a dick here.”

“Well, you’re failing miserably,” she told him, crossing her arms. 

He sighed loudly, running a hand through his already disheveled curls. It looked like he was trying to calm himself down. 

She approached him slowly, nonetheless, placing a hand over his chest, keeping it there even though she felt him tense under her touch.

“Stop pushing me away,” she whispered, looking up at him. The expression on his face kind of broke her heart a little. He looked so conflicted. So unsure. Why was her touch making him look so vulnerable? Or had it been her honesty?

His arms were still glued to his side, which was pretty annoying, but he rested his forehead onto her shoulder with another sigh.

“Sorry,” he muttered into her baggy tee, but she could still feel his breath on her exposed collarbone because of how the huge shirt was slipping down her shoulder.

If she turned her head to the left just a tiny bit her lips would be touching his neck, his shoulder.

_Control yourself, Griffin._

Her breaths were becoming more labored from the proximity, and she prayed to the heavens that he didn’t notice.

So of course she turned her head to the left. When her lips finally met his neck it was like a jolt went through his body. And her? Well, she felt her legs turning into jello under the feel of his soft, warm skin. His smell enveloped her – all musk and leather and warmth, with a hint of his cologne – and that’s probably what possessed her to pucker her lips and full out kiss his neck. 

_Jesus, what the fuck was she doing?_

She could feel how stiff he was beside her, but she still continued her exploration of him. There was no way she could stop now.

Moving her other hand up to play with the curls at the base of his neck, gripping his flimsy shirt in the other, she swore he could hear how fast her heart was beating.

“Bell…” she whispered into his ear, making him shiver. When he finally lifted his head to look her in the eye, resting his hands on her lower back, the emotion in his dark irises took her breath away.

“Clarke,” he swallowed, “what are you doing?” His voice was soft. He looked terrified.

“I dunno,” was her bright response, and she could now feel just how warm her face was. _Fuck._ She looked down, embarrassed. “Sorry, I – I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable or- sorry,” she said pulling away. But before she could untangle herself from around his strong frame, he was pulling her back into him.

“No. Shit, no. Clarke, that’s not what I meant, it’s just – Ah. Nevermind. Just, don’t be embarrassed, alright?” He was pleading with her now, rubbing circles with his thumbs into the sides of her waist, his dark orbs swallowing her whole.

She managed a nod, moving a little bit closer, which was a mistake because she could now feel Bellamy’s hot breath on her face. _Shit shit shit. What the hell was happening here?_

She nearly whimpered when he slipped his hands beneath her shirt, running them up and down her spine.

“You sure?” He was giving her an out. He’d forget all about this - her moment of weakness, if she told him to. All she had to do was say the word. But she was done pushing her affections for Bellamy away. There was no way she could forget about the feel of his big hands on her back, and he damn well knew that _, the bastard_.

He had turned his head, his forehead resting on her temple, so that every time he exhaled a shiver would escape her from the contact it left on her cheek.

She responded by kissing his jaw. And then the corner of his mouth, and _how the hell was she still holding herself up?_ Oh, right. Bellamy was pretty much supporting all of her weight because she had turned into a pile of jello.

She lingered on the corner of his mouth, feeling his breath stutter, before he met her half way. Moving a hand from underneath her shirt, he cradled the side of her face, kissing her so tenderly that she couldn’t stop the sigh of content from leaving her.

And, _Jesus,_ why the hell had they waited so long to do this? Kissing Bellamy was like tasting some forbidden fruit. It was like coming up for air after drowning in the ocean. It was everything all at once, and she couldn’t control all the emotions pouring out of her. She felt like a hurricane while kissing him. She had no control over what she was even doing anymore. The rational part of her brain flew out the window the minute his soft lips enveloped hers. 

He kept kissing her and kissing her, and it was hot and messy and sweet and everything she knew it’d be. She groaned when he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue over her bottom lip and, finally, into her mouth. Her blood was going haywire, rushing through her, and the pool of heat gathering in the pit of her stomach was making her dizzy.

He trailed the hand that was cradling her face down to her neck, holding her there for a moment, as if he were scared she’d pull away. He didn’t stop there though, continuing his trail all the way down her side, resting his hands to grip her hips.

When they broke away to catch their breaths, foreheads resting against each other, she could see the desire in his eyes, figuring she probably looked the same. Her fingers were drawing lazy trails down his torso, and when she reached the hem of his shirt, slipping her fingers under to caress his hard abs, he inhaled sharply, closing his eyes.

 

\------------------------------------------------  


_Fucking shit_ , this girl would be the death of him.

When he looked back down at her, she was grinning up at him and he thought it was probably the most beautiful thing on this earth. Nothing beat her smile.

“Something funny, Princess?” he rasped, and that just made her smile even more.

“You’re a good kisser,” was her response.

“Not so bad yourself,” he said smirking.

“Why did we wait so long to do that?” she asked, innocent as ever.

_Fuck_ , he couldn’t concentrate with her drawing patterns on his stomach like that. And with her wearing those little shorts, _if you could even call them that_. He gripped her hips a little tighter, trying to think of a response.

“Because you decided to kiss the other tallest boy in the room,” he told her, and he wished he hadn’t because the smile instantly fell off her face.

_Shit. Good one, Blake._

When she looked away from him, he reached out to grab her chin so she was facing him again. “Sorry, Princess.” He let out a breath, and enveloped her in a hug. “I know it’s not as simple as that. I’m sorry.”

When he felt her nod against him, he deflated.

“Bell… can we cuddle?” She said it quietly into his neck, making him smile at her shyness. 

He chuckled, breaking away enough so he could see her face. “Of course, Princess,” and he couldn’t help his smirk. “I may steal a kiss or two from you, though.”

“That’s okay,” she told him, smiling, kissing a trail up his jawline until she reached his mouth again.

He groaned, making her laugh, which he thought was something she should do more often. _She didn’t laugh enough._ He was determined to fix that. 

He planted a loud, sloppy kiss on her mouth, eliciting a giggle from her, before lifting her up. Clarke’s legs were wrapped around his waist and she was still giggling as he made his way towards the couch.

“What movie, Princess?”


	12. Chapter 12

Bellamy woke to the feel of Clarke’s soft body pressed against his. They had fallen asleep, cuddling no less, and he couldn’t stop staring at her peaceful face. She was breathtaking. She cuddled deeper into the crook of his neck, and only when she mumbled a soft, “Hmmm… love… you, Bell,” did he freeze up. She was talking in her sleep, but that fact didn’t prevent his heart from hammering a mile a minute.

The fear came next, completely engulfing him. He became absolutely terrified of the girl in his arms because, through her admission, he realized just how fucking much he loved her back. Too much. More. He had for a while now, and that knowledge clamped around his heart and clenched until it was all a little too much.

I mean, this was Clarke. _Clarke Griffin._ The princess. He couldn’t fucking love her. What the hell was he doing, letting her bring his walls down? He was no good. She deserved good. She deserved more than that. He’d fucking destroy her like he did everything else.

Who was he kidding? _She_ would destroy _him._ He couldn’t believe how weak he let himself appear in front of her. What did weakness ever get him? To what great place did weakness ever bring him? Fucking nowhere.

_She_ couldn’t fucking love _him_. There was no way. She’d soon realize what a piece of shit he was and leave him, just like everyone else had. He was saving them a lot of heartache and time, in the end. 

He could hear his heart beating and his fucking lungs constricting. _Love? Him?_ God, Clarke had no fucking idea what she was even talking about. She didn’t know him – what a fuck up he was. How badly he’d screw everything up, like he always did.

The panic set in, and his breathing picked up, and his chest ached from it all. The knowledge that he’d never be enough for this beautiful girl in his arms. He’d never be able to give her all of him. He was fucked beyond repair, and he wasn’t going to waste her time. _No matter how amazing it felt to be wrapped up around her._

Bellamy carefully pried her arms off of him, getting up from the couch and gently resting her head on one of the pillows. He wanted and he wanted, but he had to leave now before this got too deep.

Because, let’s face it, Clarke was better off without him in the end. He knew Clarke though, and he knew she wouldn’t give up on him, so instead he turned around and walked out, without looking back.

 

\------------------------------------

 

Clarke woke to the sound of someone opening the front door. When she finally managed to blink open her eyes, Raven was looming over her, smelling slightly of alcohol from her shift at the bar. She instantly perked up, remembering Bellamy, and prepared herself for Raven’s teasing that would soon follow. Looking around, though, she realized two things. One, the TV was still on the history channel where her and Bellamy had been watching ‘Troy’. Two, she was the only one asleep on the couch.

Raven must have noticed her face fall with the realization that he had completely picked up and left… after they had kissed. And cuddled. It made no sense.

“You alright?” Raven was eyeing her in a concerned sort of way.

Clarke cleared her throat and said, “Yeah. Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

If it were any other guy she would be telling Raven all the gory details. Especially the good details… the ones that still made her stomach erupt into butterflies. _How tenderly he had treated her._ She shook her head, feeling the hurt and anger settle in.

I mean, she really shouldn’t have been surprised. It wasn’t as if he was particularly upfront concerning his feelings. He was more of the ‘sweep it under the rug’ type. The ‘flight’ over ‘fight’ type regarding emotion. Clarke knew all of this when she initiated their kiss.

“Well, you’re asleep on a Friday night watching the history channel… I mean, usually I wouldn’t be too concerned, but I don’t see Bellamy anywhere,” she said, pointedly eyeing the empty apartment.

“What? Why wouldn’t you be concerned if Bellamy was here?”

“Because you only ever watch this channel with him.” Raven’s brows were furrowed, and Clarke wanted to wipe the concern off her face. 

“Oh. Well, he _was_ here. He had been looking for Octavia. We must have fallen asleep.” 

“So why did he leave?”

“I don’t know, maybe he had shit to do,” Clarke snapped, causing Raven’s eyebrows to shoot up in surprise.

“Clarke, what the hell is going on?”

Clarke got up from the couch with the blanket wrapped around her. When she noticed it still smelt like him she dropped it, as if it had burnt her.

She knew what this was. She knew Bellamy. This was rejection in the purest form. She had clearly scared him off. _You’re such an idiot. To think he would actually be different with you and change his ‘no commitment’ rule. You’re just as bad as Roma now._

“Nothing, scouts honor,” Clarke said plastering on a fake smile. “Sorry I snapped. I’m just exhausted. Long week.”

Raven wasn’t about to let it go, but was forced to when Octavia came bounding into their suite.

“Hi, friends! Tell me there is food I can heat up – I am absolutely famished,” Octavia said exaggeratedly, sweeping through the kitchen and swinging the fridge open.

“There should be some leftover pasta from yesterday,” Clarke told her, ignoring the way her grateful smile reminded her of another Blake. She swallowed thickly, turning to make her way into her bedroom.

“ _Clarke,_ ” Raven warned. She looked concerned, and Clarke honestly appreciated it, but she couldn’t talk about it right now and not break down into a fit of tears or hysteria. Either way, it would probably result in a broken lamp.

“Please, Rae… just not right now, okay?”

She must have heard the panicked tone of her voice, because she just nodded, silently saying, “When you’re ready I’ll be here.”

Ignoring Octavia’s confused expression as she scooped some pasta onto a plate, Clarke rushed to her bedroom, bidding a quick, “Goodnight” over her shoulder at her two best friends.

She curled up into her bed. She didn’t fall asleep though; even after she heard Raven and Octavia’s hushed, concerned voices cease as they departed for bed. She stayed awake, staring at her ceiling of stars, until the sun peaked through her window.

And all the while, a familiar husky voice replayed in her mind, telling her,  _“Clarke, for a pre-med student, you can be pretty stupid sometimes.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, did y'all expect things to go smoothly and angst-free with these two? Don't worry, I'm crying with you.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry about this late update, guys! Honestly, these past few weeks have been brutal with school work. So, I wrote this really long chapter because I made y'all wait so long, and because my next update will be a little slower, too, since March is Hell Month at my school, haha.   
> I am still so shocked at how much fluff I am capable of writing. This fic just will not let me stay dark for too long!! But, I figured we all deserve the fluff since, ya know, our hearts will most likely be shattered during the finale. Fun fun funnnn! (I'm freaking out - I'm not ready)  
> But anyways, enjoy this guys <3 I appreciate all the love

Bellamy steered clear for a while. He figured it’d be best, and less awkward for everyone, if he stayed away. He also couldn’t stomach the thought of seeing Clarke. He was scared of what he’d find if he ran into her. Anger? Probably – this was Clarke. Sadness? Doubtful – this was _Clarke_. Or, worse, nothing? Much more plausible because, again, this was the Princess he was talking about. So, he stayed away and hoped the ache in his chest would go away soon.

He had it down to a system by now – drown himself in his schoolwork whenever his group of friends decided to do something, pick up extra shifts at work after classes, and avoid lingering in the quad. He always used to see her there. 

Miller and Murphy wouldn’t stop giving him shit about it, either, the accusations of him becoming a hermit non-stop. They didn’t know why he was _actually_ staying away, and thank goodness for that because they would both give him a good beating if they knew how he was behaving.

The thing was, he _knew_ he was acting like a tool. He knew Clarke at least deserved an explanation, but he couldn’t give it to her, fearful that she may change his mind. She had the tendency to do that.

So, he stayed the hell away. 

\---------------------------  
  
“Dude, what is wrong with you?” Miller asked him heatedly, looming over where he was seated on the couch. They had been arguing for a good fifteen minutes now, both Miller and Murphy attempting to get him off his ass to go out with the gang. Well, just Miller now. Murphy had given up about five minutes ago, succumbing to GTA instead. 

“Nothing! Why the hell can’t I stay home for once?” Bellamy yelled back, crossing his arms over his chest. He was not in the mood for this right now. He wanted to sit on his damn couch and watch a damn movie after his brutal eight-hour shift. He wanted to forget about a specific blonde tempest that kept fogging his mind, too.

“You’re kidding right? You haven’t been out with us in weeks!” When Bellamy avoided his gaze, Miller pressed on. “Is this about Clarke? Did something happen between you two?”

Bellamy snapped his head up at that and Murphy paused his game to stare wide-eyed at Miller.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered darkly, but it sounded like a warning.

“You have two fucking minutes before I punch you in the face, Blake.” Bellamy just glared in response, not budging, prompting Miller to yank out his phone.

“What the fuck are you doing? Who are you calling?” 

Miller ignored his questions. When Bellamy turned to Murphy with a puzzled look on his face he just shrugged in response, returning back to his video game.

“Yeah, you can come up now,” Miller said into his phone, hanging up directly after.

Bellamy jumped up from the couch, a look on his face that was equal parts annoyed and confused.

“What did you do?”

“Reinforcements,” was Miller’s vague response. 

The two boys stared each other down, arms crossed over their chests, until a loud knock interrupted their pissing contest. 

Miller went to open the door, Bellamy’s confusion only intensifying.

“Miller, what the fu-,” Bellamy started yelling, but was cut off when he saw his sister storm into their apartment, a steely look on her face. 

“O? Guys, what the hell is this?” He was getting frustrated now.

Miller just slammed the door shut, while Murphy shut off the game with a sigh to go and stand next to him. Octavia was making her way over to Bellamy, and he knew she was going to yell at him before she even started.

“This is me intervening because apparently you need it! Bell, what the hell has gotten into you? This is a new low, even for you.” He flinched at her tone – she sounded so much like their mother.

“I am just trying to fucking relax,” he responded darkly. “But _apparently_ my so called friends and sister can’t even let me do that!”

Miller and Murphy shook their heads at that. “Drop the bullshit, Bellamy,” Octavia yelled. “We all know this is about Clarke. Now, I have no fucking clue what you did to my best friend, because she won’t say, but you both have been acting like weirdo’s ever since you stopped by last. Which was, like, a year ago by the way!”

She took a breath before continuing, still red in the face.

“Now, get your head out of your ass, stop acting like a fucking twelve year old and go get ready! We are going out and you are coming, whether you like it or not.” He hung his head, not knowing what to say. “Jeez, Bell. If Clarke can act remotely normal about whatever the hell happened, why can’t you?” Her voice softened only a smidge, but he took the small reprieve. 

He looked up at his sister, still obviously upset, but underneath all that he could see she was worried. He had shut her out, too, over the past few weeks. He knew he had to stop acting like a dick eventually, so he figured now was as good a time as any.

“Fine. But I get to leave if and when I want,” he said, turning in the direction of his room to get changed.

Octavia scoffed. “Yeah, and I get to slap you if and when I want.”

 

\-----------------------

 

As soon as Bellamy walked into the bar he knew this was a mistake. It’s like his friends were out to get him. Clarke was seated at one of the booths, surrounded by a laughing Monty, Jasper and Raven. She looked tired, the bags under her eyes evident even from where he was standing, but gorgeous nonetheless. She had an amused smirk plastered on her face, no doubt in response to something Monty or Jasper had said.

Then there was Roma, seated at the bar with a couple of her friends, who was currently burning a hole into the side of his head with her glare. Let’s just say he had told her how he felt, to which she didn’t really respond to in the best way. He wasn’t going to keep stringing her along – he couldn’t fucking take it anymore. Especially not after Clarke. He wasn’t that much of an ass. Roma _may_ have slapped him after their little chat. He _may_ have deserved it – he had called her clingy, after all. He shuddered at the memory and approached the booth with his two best friends and sister.

“You guys made it!” Jasper chirped. When he finally noticed the tall figure standing at the back of their little group his eyes widened slightly. Monty looked surprised to see him, too. Had it really been that long? _Yes, Blake. It has._ When he landed on Raven she was giving him a scrutinizing look – it didn’t look very welcoming, though, so he looked away. He didn’t need _her_ shit right now.

“Bellamy? Is that you? Have you finally risen from the grave?” Jasper asked him, the humor palpable.

“Har-Har. Yeah, I know. I’ve been busy,” he said shuffling into the booth after Miller. “It’s good to see you guys, too.” When he noticed a flash of blonde hair move in his peripheral, at the opposite end of the booth, he sighed in relief at the distance.

“Busy? More like dead,” Monty said with a smirk.

“Yeah, Blake. Why the hiatus?” Raven was giving him her ‘no bullshit’ face, one eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“Like I said, I’ve been busy. And then I got a cold. But I’m back now, so you can stop crying, Reyes,” he said with a wink and his signature smirk.

She sneered at him before saying, “A cold? In April?”

“Could have been my allergies, now that I think about it,” he said through clenched teeth. Of course Raven would be just as bad as Octavia in this situation. Worse, even. At least Octavia knew when to drop it in front of people. He could feel his blood beginning to boil.

“Shitty,” she said with a bitter twist to her lips. He took that as his out, and turned away to look at the drink menu. The table was too quite, though, so instead of looking at beer options he kept contemplating over how much his friends knew. And if they’d realized he hadn’t even glanced at Clarke yet.

“So, Murph, you gonna tell them about your pathetic Nazi-zombie loss today or should I?” Bless Miller’s soul. The table erupted into conversation at that. Leave it to his friends to dispel any awkwardness with some healthy COD competition.

He took the opportunity to glance up, and regretted it instantly. Clarke was staring pensively at the drink in her hand (vodka cran – her favorite) with a crease between her brows.  She was completely zoned out, not even flinching when Raven screeched a little too loudly right beside her ear. He swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat, to no avail. He had to physically stop himself from reaching over to smooth out the crease she always got when she was thinking too hard about something.

As if she could sense his eyes on her, her head shot up all of a sudden and they locked eyes. He didn’t expect to feel like complete and utter shit when it finally happened, but here he was feeling like complete and utter shit. The crease stayed, as her eyes flitted over his face, and her mouth set into a thin line. He looked down before she could read the regret in his eyes. She was better off not knowing how much he loved her.

 

\---------------------------------

 

An hour later, and he was four beers in and feeling pretty tipsy. Raven and Miller were dancing on the bar’s small dance floor, along with O and Jasper, which was getting more packed by the minute. Murphy was chatting up a blonde by the bar, leaving him in the booth with Clarke and Monty. He was nursing his fifth beer ( _he should probably stop after this one)_ while Monty showed Clarke how to play some game on his phone. Her giggles were frequent, clearly unable to get the hang of it, and he couldn’t figure out if he loved the sound or hated it because of the way it made his chest constrict. His heart was beating faster than normal, and he knew he was gripping his beer too tightly.

When Monty finally got up to refill his drink, the real panic set in. He could deal with being seated at the same table as Clarke when it was packed with the rest of his friends, but just the two of them? It felt wrong. Strangely empty where it would have otherwise felt like a relief to finally be alone to talk.

He swallowed and continued to watch the dance floor, sipping his beer every now and then.

“So, what? You’re just never going to look at me again?” Clarke asked him with more force in her voice than he expected. 

He sighed before turning to her, setting his face to stone. “Should I be looking at you, Princess?”

“Fuck you, Bellamy,” she said getting out of the booth and storming out of the bar.

He closed his eyes, exhaling loudly. _Shit_.

He was still battling with himself when Monty walked up to the booth. “You gonna go after her? Or should I?” The way he said it, as if he expected him to stay seated, made something inside of Bellamy break a little bit. In the end, that’s what decided him.

 

\----------------------------------

 

She would _not_ cry. She was _not_ going to fucking cry over Bellamy Blake again.

_That fucking bastard_ , Clarke thought bitterly, furiously wiping away her traitorous tears.

She stumbled slightly, feeling the effects of one too many vodka cranberry’s. It was late, and she knew she shouldn’t be walking alone back to her dorm, knew it was rude to just bail like that, but she couldn’t take Bellamy’s indifference any longer.

Just as she was rounding a corner, she heard a distant, “Clarke!” and picked up the pace. _Nu-uh. Not today. Screw him._

“Come on, Princess.” She could hear his loud steps approaching and just before she could break into a run to get the hell away, his hand encircled her wrist.

“Clarke! Are you crazy? It’s almost two in the morning. Were you really going to walk home by yourself?” There was a storm brewing behind his eyes. She yanked her wrist away in frustration.

“I am perfectly capable of walking myself home, Bellamy!” 

“Clarke, you’re drunk.” He said as he folded his arms across his chest.

“I am not fucking drunk!” She was horrified at the high pitch her voice had taken. Another side effect of Bellamy Blake. He rubbed his hand across his face, letting out a long breath. He looked exhausted. 

“Clarke, come on. I’ll walk you home,” he said through a tense jaw. 

“Leave. Me. Alone,” she warned. She could feel herself getting emotional again.

“No.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? You act like a dick for nearly a month, can’t even look me in the eye with our friends, but now you want to walk me home?”

He looked down, sighing.

 

\------------------------------------

 

She was right, of course.

Before he could respond, with _what_ he doesn’t even know, she continued.

“Look, I know I shouldn’t have kissed you. I obviously read the signs all wrong…. And I know I risked our friendship because of it. I just, I can’t do _this_ anymore, Bellamy.” 

He looked up, needing to see her face. She looked… hurt. Sad. How could that be? Wait a minute.

“Wait, what?” He shook his head, completely baffled.

“Are you seriously going to make me repeat it? Gosh, you are such a dick, Bellamy,” she said shaking her head.

“You… you didn’t read the signs wrong… how could you think that?”

He was brought out of his confusion when Clarke pushed him. She kept pushing him until he hit the brick wall of a closed shop.

“Bellamy Blake, how could I _not_ think that? You ran away!” 

_Shit. Okay, yeah. She had a point._

“Look, Clarke, I just… I’m no good for you, alright?” He winced when he was met with silence. When he finally mustered up the courage to look up, Clarke was giving him an inscrutable look. 

“You idiot,” she finally said. She took a hesitant step forward, causing Bellamy to step back and press his back against the wall even further. He didn’t mean to flee from her approach, but Clarke scared the shit out of him sometimes. A hurt look flashed across her face before she composed herself, stopping some few feet away from him. 

“You have no idea what is or isn’t good for me,” she said folding her arms across her chest. He tried to ignore the wonders the action did for that particular area. 

He heaved a deep sigh. “Clarke, I-,” but she didn’t let him finish. Instead, she poked him in the chest and barreled on.

“Don’t you dare give me this self-deprecating bullshit. I know you, Bellamy. You’re scared so now you’re running away. And I’m such an idiot for not realizing sooner!”

“Yeah? Scared of what, Princess?” He prompted, swallowing thickly. _Why on earth was he challenging her?_

\-----------------------------------  
  
Clarke decided to go out on a limb here. She remembered the way he had looked at her that day… how tenderly he had kissed her, how softly he had touched her. She knew he was feeling what she was feeling. He tried so hard to deny it, steer clear and push her away. She finally got it now. Bellamy would never think he was good enough for her. 

He was looking back at her now, with that same intense stare, the one that gave her heart palpitations – the one that made her kiss him.

“Scared of… me. Scared of what you feel for me,” she whispered. She had meant for it to come out with more conviction, but she couldn’t really breathe properly with all the electricity floating in the air right now. 

He inhaled sharply and tried to look down to hide the vulnerability in his eyes. “Bellamy… you’re enough for me.” He finally looked up at her through his dark lashes, the look on his face breaking her heart.

She knew he was battling with himself on this. _To think this could have ever been about Roma._ When did Bellamy ever think he was good enough for anyone? He even thought he was a shit brother, when everyone _knew_ the undying loyalty he had for Octavia.

She shook her head, looking at this broken boy in front of her, looking to her for reassurance. She would need to convince him. _Really_ convince him. She’d say it once, and if he turned her down she’d be done with it all. She couldn’t let him break her more after this.

“Bell… I love you. You’re enough, okay? You’ve always been enough for me. More than that, if we’re being honest.”

And it was like all the breathe in his lungs left him. He closed his eyes, a deep crease between his brows, and for a dreaded moment she thought he was going to shoot her down again. _Fuck, this is going to hurt, Griffin._

But then a slow smile spread across his face, and he opened his eyes and said, “Okay,” the openness on his face making Clarke pause.

 

\--------------------------------

 

“Okay?” She questioned. She was staring at him wide-eyed, her arms limp at her sides.

“Yeah, okay, Princess. I believe you.” He felt so much lighter already. His heart was constricting in the best way possible.

“You do? You’re not going to just run off again?” She stumbled a little when he wrapped his hand around her wrist and pulled her forward.

“Nope,” he told her, a huge smile across his face. He placed a hand on her cheek, moving the other one to her waist, his grip firm.

“Your mood swings give me whiplash,” she said simply, causing him to chuckle.  

“Clarke?”

She looked terrified, as if she knew what he was about to say. “Hm?” She squeaked out as he smoothed the crease between her brows.

“I love you, too.”

And then he kissed her, sealing his admission like a promise.


End file.
